You Know What? I'm A Pretty Darn Good Mom

I've mentioned it before that I get that feeling like I'm somehow failing at this whole being a mom thing. I'm not a crafty mom and most things I attempt would make the Pinterest fail list in a heartbeat. I'm not a great chef, and my kids eat more chicken nuggets and pizza than I'm proud to admit. Heck some days I'm making more messes than the kids (remember What I Learned From A Puzzle In The Washing Machine?).  My house definitely has the lived in look.

So basically, I'm not Betty Crocker, I'm not Martha Stewart, and I'm not June Cleaver. I'm me, the mom that works a full time job, buys all costumes and party supplies, orders more meals out than she cooks (though I'm getting better on this fitness journey), sends her stained clothing to her grandma's for help, and whose house probably would be a pigsty without her husband.

But here's the bottom line, despite all of my shortcomings (and I know there are plenty), I'm a pretty darn good mom. Yep, I am. Here's why: my almost nine year old still thinks my kisses are magical and that they heal boo boos. All four of my girls' faces light up when I come home and they run to hug me. I let them make messes that I really don't want to clean up (hello PlayDoh and ice cream cones)! I know all the words to I Love You Through and Through, Pinkalicious, Llama Llama Red Pajama, and There Was An Old Lady Who Swallowed  A Fly by heart because at one point in time all four of my girls have loved those books. I make up a song about poop so my three year old will go to sleep (an odd request, but it makes her and her big sister giggle the sweet giggles that I love).

It's not an all inclusive list, but it reminds me that as I fix another broken bracelet or doll, wipe markers off my counters and cabinet, and remake beds and refold clothes that I just folded, I'm doing alright. I let them help make dinner (when I actually cook) and wash dishes, and it all comes with added messes. I do it because I love them and want them to be happy. I may lose my temper on occasion and yell when I shouldn't. I may get frustrated because I have a screaming kiddo clinging to my leg and I'm just trying to get dinner made.

I hope I'm teaching them to love through the messes and to forgive the mistakes. I hope through all that I'm not, I'm showing them all that I am. I'm pretty sure that being real and the best me, even on my not so great days, makes me a good mom.

At the end of the day, it's me they want to hug, to fix things, and to kiss boo boos. I know that it won't last forever because they're getting bigger. But it also tells me, that despite the fact that I'm not perfect, I'm a pretty darn good mama. And I'll take that everyday of the week.