The kind who never makes her kids feel small by yelling at them.
The kind who willingly does crafts on the weekends.
The kind who has a spotless home.
The kind who grows vegetables, cans and jars said vegetables, and can keep flowers alive.
The kind who has infinite patience.
The kind who manages to always find time for others.
The kind who never has a mean thing to say about anyone.
Instead, these beautiful daughters got me. A mom with a temper. A mom who only truly cleans house once a year. A mom who will try to persuade the kids to read rather than paint because she doesn’t want the mess. A mom who will leave for a week at a time. A mom who yells. A mom who is selfish.
Honestly, I know it’s futile to compare myself with others. I know there isn’t an ideal mom and there certainly is *not* a right way to do things. It doesn’t stop me from wanting. Could I do all those things? Probably (well, maybe not the patience thing). Will I? Probably not. Because there are lessons to be learned from my perceived imperfections: It’s okay to tell the world how you feel. People sometimes say what they don’t mean, but it doesn’t mean they don’t love you. We all screw up – that’s what forgiveness is for. Loving yourself means you can love others more.