The Mom I Want to Be
And the mom I really am
-Julie Ryan Evans
The mom I want to be makes every meal from scratch with whole, organic foods. The mom I am does this sometimes, but is also known to serve up frozen dinosaur nuggets and tator tots. The fact that I buy them at Whole Foods makes me feel a little bit better.
The mom I want to be would volunteer happily for every opportunity at my son’s preschool and be in the classroom at every opportunity provided. The mom I am is kicking herself daily for volunteering to be the freakin’ cookbook committee chair and vows never again to agree to such a task.
The mom I want to be would never raise her voice to her child, would always have the right answer and remain calm at all times. The mom I am gets flustered, has no clue what to do half the time and has on occasion lost it a little.
The mom I want to be makes sure her son brushes his teeth morning and night and always has a clean face. The mom I am sometimes forgets the teeth; and even if she remembers, just ignores that fact if they’re running late.
The mom I want to be has a pristine playroom with all the non-plastic, educational toys placed in the color-coded, labeled, baskets and bins. The mom I am walks into the playroom, looks at the panorama of plastic strewn about and shuts the door.
I don’t beat myself up over the differences between these two mothers–not too much at least. Because I think part of the battle in being a good parent is knowing what you hold important; knowing who you strive to be; and knowing when to let things slide.
And really, I think when parenting comes from love, anything you do–mistakes included–just can’t be that bad.