Super mom, I am not

ImageMy energy levels have been low the past few days and all I’ve wanted to do is sit on the couch reading my Kindle. My demanding boss, the Bacon Bit, has made it quite clear she doesn’t find this to be an acceptable way to pass the day. 

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I don’t always feel like I’m offering Lena enough activities or experiences to help her reach her fullest potential. I don’t feel like that aspect of parenting always comes natural to me. Will her creativity suffer because I haven’t let her explore a bathtub filled with cooked spaghetti? Will she have attention issues because we watch Veggie Tales and a daily episode of Andy Griffith before bed? There are some days where I feel like I’ve accomplished absolutely nothing in the way of making her smarter.

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I went into town with a new friend today and we stopped for some hot chocolate. She’s pregnant and due any day now. As we chatted and got to know each other better, she mentioned she had a son and he had passed away from cancer at the age of three. I wasn’t even sure how to respond except to listen to her story. Her pregnancy suddenly held much more meaning as the reality of her loss sunk in.

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I am not a super mom. Some days we’ll read ten books, some days we’ll read none. Sometimes we’ll stay in pajamas all day and watch Finding Nemo. There are even full days that go by and we don’t eat a single meal at the table. I’ll find myself getting discouraged at the end of the day for not living up the image of “mom” I have in my head. 

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But as I sat across from my new friend and looked over at my sweet little monster throwing her snacks all over the floor, I gained a little perspective. My baby knows she’s loved. What I lack in imaginative activities, I make up for in hugs and kisses and little moments. And I’ll trade super mom status for that any day.

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