Mom’s want to be good moms. Right? I want to be a good mom. Correction. I want to be the best mom. The best mom ever. And sometimes, that’s a lot of pressure on myself. Because I have this crazy idea in my head that in order to be the best mom, or even a really good one, you have to be the best cook, the best house-cleaner, the best fort builder, the best entertainer, and the best teacher. And on top of it all, I have my own goals and aspirations that I set for my personal self that I am constantly striving to attain, whether it is with my blog, my clothing line, keeping up with our family photo books (waaay behind), decorating my house, all of the creative outlets that give me a personal sense of accomplishment.
But sometimes I feel like I get so caught up on trying to do everything, that I just need to stop, take a breath, quit trying to clean the kitchen that will never stay clean, and go roll around with the boys and let them jump and slobber on me. It is the times when I am actually physically down at eye level with them that I realize how important those moments of pure interaction are. These little humans who look to me to give them animal crackers and milk, kiss them goodnight, and many more things that involve lots of gross bodily fluids. But I do it. And I love it. Cause I get to be their mom. I can’t say that I am the best mom ever. I’m far from super mom. If we are dressed and out of the house by 11am, you can bet yer bottom dolla that my house looks like a tornado. I guess that’s just the nature of the beast. It’s a constant balancing act. I just hope I take more time to stop and roll around on my hotwheel covered floor with my boys than I spend worrying about all the things I need to improve.
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