The Art of Being A Good Mom

It’s SO easy to compare yourself to other moms, isn’t it?

I do it daily. I don’t like to, I don’t want to, but I do. It just happens.

With Facebook, we constantly see other mom’s take their kids to the park every day, or make crafts together, having a grand ol’ time.

On Pinterest, we see homemade baby food, gourmet organic four course lunches for toddlers, and beautifully decorated bedrooms with décor priced more than a kidney on the black market.

Seriously?

Same with Instagram, all these perfect photos and perfect lives.

Blech.

Can we get back to reality, por favor?

Wanna know what fancy food my kids eat for lunch?

Hot dogs. Mac & cheese. PB&J. Chicken nuggets. Sometimes cereal, if they beg long enough.

I really don’t like going to the park. Yeah, it’s fun, til you lose sight of your two-year-old and have an anxiety attack while everyone stares at you running around like a mad woman.

 


 

 

 

Bedroom décor–ha! My kids find a way to tear down anything on the walls, why would I spend money on it?

But you know what else?

My kids are alive. They are happy. They are fed three meals a day with plenty of snackage in between.

I yell, and then I cry and apologize because I feel bad. I get stressed and need a break and my kids can see that, but it’s okay. Why is it okay that my kids see me upset? Cause they come give me hugs and kisses and tell me everything will be okay.

I can’t say I’m a perfect mom, or a great mom, or even a somewhat decent mom. I’m not the judge of that.

My kids are.

Brenna just talks gibberish mostly, but Mikinley tells me all the time that I’m the best mom in the world and that she loves me soooo much.

That’s all I need. I don’t need anyone else’s approval, or likes on Facebook or Instagram.

My kids think I’m great (:

So I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but…

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