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Dear Internet, I’m Not a Perfect Mom

Dear Internet,

I have a confession to make. I am not a perfect mom.

But then, this is not really a confession, is it? Because I never claimed to be a perfect mom.

That hasn’t stopped you from pointing out my flaws, though, has it? (Read: How to Say Goodbye to Angry Mommy Today.)

_View more by studioroman
by studioroman

I see you there, lurking in the shadows, ready to jump out as soon as I post that imperfect picture.

You can’t wait to comment on my messy house, unfolded laundry, or the TV that is blasting in the background. Seriously, you say, screen time is horrible for your children, why do you even have a TV?

I post a cute video of my kids telling a joke, but you can’t get past the dirty dishes in the sink.

You are eager to let me know my child’s hair is a disaster, but why stop there, you think? So, you throw in a “maybe you should brush your hair too.” for good measure.

You are readily prepared to pounce as soon as I post my insightful post, the one meant to encourage fellow mamas who are struggling.

You need to make sure I understand my discipline techniques are 100% wrong.

I mean, who do I think I am? Choosing to parent my children differently than you?

You need to make sure I know I am not a perfect mom. In fact, I’m worse than not perfect.

I’m horrid, and your job isn’t done until you make sure I know just how horrible of a parent I am. Right?

Well, I have news for you, Internet.

View more by AnnaStills from Getty Images
by AnnaStills from Getty Images

I’m not a perfect mom. But you know what? I never claimed to be perfect.

Those are your standards. Not mine.

I lose my cool way too much with my children.

Sometimes, I am too tired to cook a healthy dinner, so I throw chicken nuggets or maybe even cereal in my family’s general direction.

Once, I fed my children ice cream for dinner. And you know what? They didn’t get a cavity the next day.

Sometimes, my daughter wakes up, and she doesn’t run a brush through her hair all day long. Maybe we even go out without her brushing it. Maybe not. You would never be able to tell anyway.

I have allowed my child to go out in public with her shirt on backward.

And you know what? I have even gone out in public with my shirt on backward (not on purpose still, but chalk it up with the rest of my parenting sins, why don’t you? We all know you want to. )

So you see, I know I’m not a perfect mom.

But then, I don’t have to be.

My children don’t ask me to be a perfect mom, and neither does God.

My children ask me to be their mom.

The mom who sleeps balanced on the edge of the bed when they have a bad dream, so they can take up the entire queen mattress.

They ask me to be the mom who holds them when they are scared and kisses their invisible booboos and their real ones.

My children ask me to be the mom who encourages them when they are struggling to learn to read and does a happy dance when they read their first book by themselves.

My children ask me to be the mom who sings their special song every night and makes their special birthday dinner once a year.

These children of mine ask me to love them with their whole hearts for who they are. And you know what? I do.

I’m the perfect mom for them.

Perfect is not in the mom job description, sorry to burst your bubble, no one is a perfect mom, you’re not going to find one.

_View more by AnnaStills from Getty Images
by AnnaStills from Getty Images

You may point out my child’s crazy hair.

But you aren’t there when my child grins from ear to ear because mommy has allowed her to express her style with her hair.

You may read one sentence about my discipline style that differs from yours and paint me as a horrible parent.

But you aren’t there when I apologize to my child for being too stern or when they look at me, smile, and say oh, Mommy, that is alright; I forgive you; we all make mistakes.

You may see the messy house but you don’t see the many hours spent outside getting fresh air or the 100 books we have read through in 1 day.

You may look at me and see an imperfect mom, but I’m glad you see my imperfections.

Because you see the Internet, I never claimed to be perfect. That standard is yours, not mine.

And frankly, my dear,

Your opinion isn’t needed.

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