Tag Archives: mama confessions

Thinking and Telling


The husband and I have spent many a mile on the road this week. Which I love. Is that weird? I mean we get to spend hours holding hands and listening to podcasts while the kiddos are strapped into seats. Lucy makes up songs for us and let’s us get a glimpse of the logic of her crazy rational four-year-old brain. Landon sends me lots of sweet smiles and does some great car seat dancing. Cohen had a few minutes of “get me out of this seat” screaming but he was a trooper for the most part, too.

But I think the best part of traveling, especially through the endless fields in the Land of Lincoln, is the time for thinking and telling. When Chuck gets home from 10 or 12 hours of being away at work, he’s mostly thinking about how he can help me with the feeding, bathing, pajama dressing of the kids. But roadtrips? Roadtrips were made for roaming thoughts.

One of the things that came up this trip was Chuck telling me how he felt really supported by me this past year. That I was transitioning to a bigger helpmate I guess you could say. My first thought was, “Well of course I’m supporting you, I think you’re the coolest guy I know.” But then, it occurred to me to ask what I was doing that made him feel supported. And I was a little surprised to find that one of the examples he had was when I prayed aloud for him last summer. I was surprised because it didn’t seem that extraordinary to me. I mean, I pray for him in my mind everyday! But I could be doing a much better job of telling him my specific prayers for him. Isn’t that better than when someone says, “Oh, I’ll pray for you.” Instead saying, “I’m going to pray for you right now.” Or if we’re not together, sending him a little message saying a few specific prayers.

And then I started thinking about the rest of the relationships in my life. Am I telling my friends when they’re on my heart? Am I telling them how much they mean to me? Am I making time to have them in my life? Thinking and telling. Not just thinking. Being intentional. Treating friends like family and treating family like blessings.


Oh God that you chose this life for me. That your mission would not be lost on me.

Tagged ,


I had this post half-written called “Lucy’s Lamentations”. It was supposed to make you giggle [and maybe commiserate] as I recounted the reasons my sensitive daughter cried today. I feel confident mentioning the 30 minute saga that followed after the dress she chose from her closet was deemed “not twirly enough” would have accomplished just that. You’d maybe give me a “been there” when I told you about the shopping cart crying heard round the store and control-your-child stares received.

But I couldn’t finish it. Because she was awful. And she had a bad day. And it felt like she was trying to bring us all down with her. And it felt like one of those bad morning of a bad day of a bad week cycles. But when I think about my reaction to her, it’s not really funny anymore.

I was impatient. I was quick to anger, not abounding in love. Today could have been a different day if I’d reacted differently. Reflecting on it tonight, I was reminded of something I heard in a sermon a few weeks back: the way we look at others is a great indicator of what’s going on in our hearts. And then I thought of the main point that Chuck and I taught [taught!] in Sunday School last week, “The greatest kindness to us was God sending His own son, the Son of God, so we could be with Him now and forevermore. We should share this kindness with others!”

mama confessions | hey, beth baker!

It’s easy to be embarrassed when our children act out. It’s easy to focus on our imperfections. To try to redeem ourselves with our social images. To find solace in how we might be perceived; so much that the real mission of motherhood is forgotten. That we might raise our children to know Christ, to follow after Him, and to draw others to Him.

And when, in the everyday jungle that is raising toddlers, I find my boiling point tipped- I have to refocus on that mission. To set aside my daily ambitions and seek that greater cause. To chase after Christ and just… become less.

Less pride. Less rush. Less on the to-do list. More focus. More forgiveness. More patience.

12 Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, 13 bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. 14 And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. 15 And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. 16 Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. 17 And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. [Colossians 3: 12-17]




sometimes days feel like weeks. they’re heavy and exhausting. they leave me feeling like i didn’t accomplish anything and i have nothing to give. i am stripped.

sometimes at the end of those days i pack the kids in the double stroller and walk about the neighborhood. asking God questions aloud. “am i doing this right?”

sometimes it rains on us and the kids are elated.

sometimes the idea of cooking dinner for my family feels monumental. like: please construct mount rushmore by yourself, without any tools, in three days monumental.

sometimes it’s enough to go to a friend’s house where you feel so at home and so welcome you don’t really mind that you’ve been white knuckling your parental duties.

sometimes all it takes is a successful trip to the mall to swing your day.

sometimes the idea of a shopping mall makes you feel nauseous.

sometimes you start each day by telling your mother you’ll call her back after you give your daughter a time out.

sometimes you have to be the mean mom who makes her daughter stay home from dance class because she’s making poor choices.

sometimes you have to be the mean mom who makes everyone leave the playground because one cannot follow the rules.

sometimes you want to disregard all the rules.

sometimes your daughter says, “you’re awesome, mom!” and it fuels you for a week.

sometimes you sneak into your kid’s room and hold their hand while they’re sleeping because life has showed you its fragility and it humbled you.

sometimes you are overwhelmed by the abundance of blessings and mercies you have.

sometimes you’re embarrassed that you would ask for more.

sometimes life presents itself as something you’ve valued as unfair and you have to figure out the justification of that which leaves you hopeful rather than envious.

sometimes you have to be real and admit the thoughts you’re not proud of to find freedom from them.

sometimes you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by the perfection granted by life’s everyday moments.

sometimes you take a morning to do a dance class via dvd with your daughter. and sometimes you like it.

sometimes all it takes to turn the day around is a hazelnut macchiato.

sometimes you make pancakes for breakfast and your toddler son pats you on the back in approval.

sometimes you buy frozen waffles because the idea of starting the day out with kitchen mess is too much.

sometimes you wish you could communicate better in person than in writing.

sometimes you look at your husband and honestly can’t believe you’re married to someone so incredibly good-looking.

sometimes the kids’ bath comes by way of the sprayground.

sometimes your daily entertainment is watching the “shows” put on by your daughter and her never-ceasing imagination. and usually you like it.

sometimes you have to remind yourself of your own words.

sometimes reflection will draw your spirit towards contentment.

sometimes you ask for help. for encouragement. and it comes. [But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:9, 10 ESV)]

mama confessions | hey, beth baker!


Love Is A Decision

So I have a confession to make [Oh my gosh, I’m always confessing something]. I love Christian Fiction novels. They may sometimes get a little contrived or cheesy, but I just can’t help it. There’s nothing worse [for me] then picking up a book from the library and getting invested in the characters only to turn the page and get smacked in the face with some raucous reading [I’ve always been quick to blush]. So, I like them. And I think Chuck would rather me read them than the alternatively safe Young Adult Fiction. The poor guy is all vampired out, I’m afraid.

Recently, I was reading through a series by Karen Kingsbury and something one of the main characters said really resonated with me: Love Is a decision. It’s true in our marriages, our families, our friendships, even our jobs. It’s just truth. We’re called to it. We’re defined by it. We can aspire to it. Love gives us strength and courage. Strength when this season of life pulls you a little lower than you’d like. Courage when despair rises up or justice needs to be sought.

love is a decision | hey, beth baker!

Love means choosing to put the hard, frustrating things behind you and focus on the affirming, positive ones. Love is a decision to be happy where you are, with what you have. Love is steadfast. It’s permanent and imminent. Love.

“And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.” [1 Cor 13:2-3,7-8a]

love is a decision | hey, beth baker!

Tagged ,

Mama Confessions

I have a confession to make.

No, I’m being serious.

My kids were a little crazy this week. We caught a little tummy bug so in the course of one day I had one vomit-spewer and two diarrhea-ridden children [I realize the math may not add up: I watch a 4 month old sweet babe during the week]. But I call the bug little because it didn’t seem to really tire them out. You know how sometimes when your kids are sick all they want to do is cuddle and watch movies and you’re secretly a teeny, tiny bit thinking to yourself, “This is dreamy and totally worth the lysol.” I did not reap the cuddle benefit. Boo. So as I’m picking up toys for the trillionth [hyperbole] time with my crackly I’ve-been-washing-away-germs-all-day hands listening to the increased whining [that’s right I didn’t get sick cuddles but I did get sick whining] I thought:

I must be doing this motherhood thing wrong because it should definitely not be this hard.

Which is sort of funny because I feel like I’m not supposed to admit that. But come on, seriously, sometimes it’s hard. Then I thought about this question my husband asked me a few months ago. He asked if I ever thought, “Man, I am just really nailing this mom thing. I am amazing.” He makes me smile. He sees the “I sprinted around the house cleaning after I got your ‘coming home’ text” house and the dinners he sweetly commends. He sees bathed and put together children. He gets updates during the day with pictures of our latest art project or living room obstacle course. But sometimes I think he’s like a battlefield commander that doesn’t see life in the trenches. Not because he doesn’t want to or because he’s insensitive to it. He’s out making the bacon 50 hours a week; you know, like it’s his job or something.

So, that’s why we’ve got to stick together. To immerse ourselves in community with other mothers. A Band of Mothers if you will [hehe]. It’s what we’re called to do. It’s what will save our sanity. So here’s to opening up: to being honest about our struggles, to recipe sharing, to truth speaking, to hug giving, and to check-in texting. Hallelujah.

mama confessions at heybethbaker


Mama Confessions

I feel like my mind is presently a big heaping bowl of vegetable soup. There’s a huge variety of stuff floating around, everything is a little muddled. I’m working on it.

A lot of my life is explained [by me, to myself… kind of a red flag] through food metaphors. Am I the only one? I mean, I think food is the ultimate time machine. One taste or smell can immediately transport you back to a time or place [good or bad] where some memory was made. Potato soup brings back memories of being a picky eater and cheese toast that stuck to the roof of my mouth.

I’m thankful for food memories. And for a mom who made home-cooked meals every night. A mom who made pans [and pans] of lasagna and drove it the 30 minutes to my school so that whatever sports team I was playing on at the time could appreciate those same home-cooked meals before a big game.

Parents make a huge impression on our lives. Even when we’re not living with them anymore. They are empowered [whether they accept the power or not] to completely mold our psyches. Of course we grow up and become adults and start working things out for ourselves, but it’s incredible how they shape us.

So incredible that when you actually become a parent -and probably for most when that baby is still growing in your belly- you start thinking of what you want and don’t want for your little lady or mister. I mean, this is a big deal. A huge responsibility.

We talked a lot during the Christmas season of the teenager Mary: a virgin chosen to be the mom of the Savior of the Universe. But I couldn’t help but think: what did Mary’s parents think of her sitch? I mean it seems like they raised her to be a Godly woman so they must have been pretty legit.

So Mary made me think, what do I really want for these kids? What’s the really important stuff I want to pass on to them? I mean of course I want them to be smart and well-rounded. And awesome. Doesn’t every parent? But what am I going to instill in them that’s going to have an infinite, universal purpose? How am I going to teach them to be warriors for Christ? I mean, I’m just a sinner. How do I break this [what I want them to be] down into something chewable for a toddler and a three-going-on-thirteen year-old. And how do I figure it out well enough that my understanding is fluid enough to grow with them [because it’s crazy how fast they grow].

And then it all seems sort of daunting. So in addition to keeping them fed, clean, loved, and, well, alive… I also have to figure out a way to mold them into awesome [you know, Christ-sharing, God-fearing, selfless] people. But then it occurred to me that this is the most indirect, ever-present lesson motherhood has taught me. It is the way that motherhood is the most character revealing, make-you-want-to-be-a-better-person thing I’ve ever done.

In order to teach my kids how be the people I want them to be, I have to model those behaviors for them. I have to live it out, because that’s what they’re soaking up. They are with me all day: there is a direct relationship between my sin and their sin [at this point in their baby lives]. Eek.

But that’s kind of good, right? That to succeed in parenthood we need only to try to make ourselves better. And really, the effort on our part is minimal. I mean to say, it’s attainable. We just have to give it over to God.

“He said to them, ‘Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, “Move from here to there,” and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.'” [Matthew 17:20]

It’s the same idea of setting up the nursery: every new parent spends a lot of time making that space just right. We just have to create an environment for our kids that points them back to Christ.

“Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.” [Deuteronomy 6:4-9]

mama confessions at heybethbaker

Tagged ,

Mama Confessions

I am not a super mom.
I’m not totally sure I want to be. I mean- don’t get me wrong- I do have a list of things I want to be:

thoughtful, kind, respectful, creative, humble, courageous, faithful, joyful

But super isn’t on the list.

I have thoughts that go something like this: “I want my kids to look back on me and think…”

My mom never got mad about stuff that didn’t matter.
My mom always encouraged me to think outside the box.
I feel like I can be and express myself because of the way my parents raised me.
My mom was always doing stuff for other people; she showed love through words and actions [but mostly actions].

But sometimes my perspective is off. And it sort of throws everything out of whack. The further you are invested in what you hold close to your heart, the stronger the desire to do it right. But a stronger desire doesn’t make anything easier. In fact, the more we’re invested, the more we realize the stakes, the easier it is to narrow your focus.

So I don’t want to be a super mom. But I do want to be a mom with a right heart. That sounds way less glamorous. And there’s no cape involved.

This week brought so many opportunities to question and clarify my perspective.

Praying for your friends is good. Only listening. Putting what you are focusing on aside. Friends who share their hearts. That’s a great way to gain perspective: grabbing someone else’s for a while.

Halloween made me mad this year. And kind of emotional. I’m upset that my kid can’t eat Snickers. There I said it. It’s so silly and pointless. But frustrating. It upsets me that I have to take her Halloween spoils and pull out all the “good stuff” and leave her with the Dum-Dums. You know the crazy part? I don’t even want her to eat that kind of candy! I don’t buy candy for her. I think it’s just the weariness of her constant questioning, “Why can’t I have that?” Because God made you special. Because it will make you sick. Mama can try to make something just like this for you. Do you ever get upset at things that you know are so superficial? While you’re upset you’re further berating yourself over your shallowness. But as much as I try to maintain a perspective, sometimes I just want my daughter to experience what a Snickers tastes like. But then I’m reminded of God’s will for our lives. For the way we cannot see big pictures and causations like a Heavenly Father can. I’m reminded of how the kids’ allergies have taken us on this amazing food journey that’s so wholly, so positively impacted our family. And then it all feels a little silly.

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit in me.” -Psalm 51:10

I love that this verse says “renew a right spirit”. It’s not something you can pray for once and then have forever. It’s a journey. With stages. A seemingly endless pursuit.


Mama Confessions

There’s not much I miss about working full-time, if we’re being honest. I love staying home with my two lovelies. I love the adventures we have every day. But I realized this week there is one thing I miss a little: Yearly Performance Reviews.

I mean, there were an endless supply of people letting me know how they felt about how I did my job as a retail manager. There was my boss who gave me those reviews, there were the people who worked for me who let me know when they thought what I asked of them was nuts, and there were customers, the most vocal of all. In short, every day people gave me positive and negative feedback about my job.

So, staying home, there’s not as much feedback. Sure, Lucy let me know today that she did not want to take a nap. And she let me know how she felt about the leggings I picked out for her. Chuck will tell me if he likes dinner or wouldn’t be sad to never see it again. Obviously, the feedback is not the same [and there’s never a raise or bonus involved].

I think that’s where moms get caught up, at least I do. There’s no annual performance review so I give myself [a lot] of self-reviews. And I am a tough critic. I have lofty goals for how I want our days to go, what I want my kids to learn, the kids of dinners I want on the table.

I’ve been enjoying reading this blog lately. Specifically this post where she talks about the lack of middle ground in motherhood. If everything is going well we give ourselves an A+ but if things go awry it’s right to failing. We need to have grace with ourselves if we expect it to be extended by others. It’s nice when you realize other people feel the same way you do. It’s even better when mamas tell each other.

And that’s how Pinterest spoke truth into my life this week. What?! Unexpected. It started with this C.S.Lewis quote:


It was right on track with this crazy good sermon series we’ve had this month called, “We Are The Church”. We have to keep our thoughts on what we know to be true. We have to speak truth to ourselves. And we have to surround ourselves with people who are going to encourage and build us up. Friends who are on the same quest.

And here’s a little extra credit from Ephesians 4:29-32:
“Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”

When days seem to be going in the wrong direction. When it seems a challenge to muster up positive thoughts. These are the moments when I need to call upon the things I know to be true. Or at least call upon an amazing friend [or mom, or sister] that God has put into my life when I need a little perspective for my short-sighted report card.

Tagged ,

Mama Confessions

So maybe this is a good indication of how many times I have to “check” myself as a mama, but every week or so I like to unburden myself of the times I’ve gone a little awry.

Last week was sort of a crazy week. We were displaced from our house for five days. We spent a couple in a hotel and a couple with some friends who were gracious enough to host us. In summary, we did not have our usual routine and we were around other kiddies, a lot.

At the end of the week I was so weary. I love my house. I love to be at my house. Fine, I admit it. I’m a homebody. I actually schedule days in our week where we don’t have anything. Like, at the beginning of every week I look to see what’s already scheduled and map out two days to stay home. That doesn’t mean we stay inside our house, but it does seem to balance the fun of motherhood [playdates, going to the park, shopping (even if it’s groceries, I’m weird)] with the responsibilities I have to my family [a clean house, clean clothes, a sane mama]. So to be away from my house for a week kind of stressed me out.

And it brought about a realization. And I think it’s one a lot of other mamas share with me. I have a problem; it’s kind of a secret. I am a comparer. I don’t want to do it. I know it’s wrong. I’m not a Judgey McJudgerson. I’m not looking at anyone else and saying what they’re doing is right or wrong. I’m… noticing [and worrying about my kids]. For example:

A few weeks ago we had our Parents As Teachers (PATs) evaluation for Lucy. I was nervous because Landon had his last month and landed in the “Needs Improvement” column on kind of everything. Physically, he doesn’t want to walk yet. Communication-wise he prefers a good grunt over a “mama”-yell. You name it and [according to the evaluative tool being used] he was lacking. So I started to think of Lucy at that age [comparing]. I started to think of the other kids his age we know. Counting up how many are walking. How many are talking. When they started to show their skills. [comparing]. I started to question what I was doing as a mom to cause him to fail [because really, it felt like I was the one being given the “Needs Improvement”.] Am I not pushing him to walk enough? Should I spend hours in his face saying words so he can watch my lips move? Should I read to him more? I’ve read the parenting books, I need to get on this. Right?! No. No, Beth. As Lucy says, “Chill out!”

So I was trying to relax about Lucy’s test. My kids are healthy. They’re happy. They’re safe. And they’re loved. We got this. So, willing myself not to be a pageant mom, I sat back and watched as our [amazing] PATs helper asked Lucy questions, had her stand on one leg, listened to her pronunciation, drew shapes with her. Lucy nailed it. She really did. She was “Above Average” across the board. So I asked her teacher if I was doing something wrong to have one child succeed so much and one so challenged [man, does this read selfish or what (me, me, me)]. And Kris, our PATs helper, was so sweet when she answered with a gentle, “no”. Kids are different. Kids do things in their own time. And I know that. I need to own that. I need to relax.

So the next time we have a playdate and Lucy’s friend knows all of her shapes and colors [Lucy calls everything blue. Colors, shapes, doesn’t matter. The answer is blue.] I need to be okay with that. And that’s where God’s grace came in this week. I’ve been reading “The Mission of Motherhood” by Sally Clarkson. What a perspective-changer. Motherhood isn’t about raising the smartest, best mannered, most popular kids. My kids aren’t a challenge to overcome; they’re God’s children and my greatest task is to lead them to Him.

Mrs. Clarkson said on motherhood, “Now most of the time I stay home. I spend a great deal of time doing things that will need to be done over and over again -washing clothes, cooking meals, cleaning messes, correcting attitudes, teaching, and training- over and over and over again….I have given up my personal rights to the priority of addressing my children’s needs first. When we choose to sacrifice our own goals and desires to serve our children, we, too, are furthering his eternal work. We know that, through our labor and love, over time he will faithfully build our children into a righteous heritage.”

So she says, “If we focus on intellect, social status, or wealth, it’s almost certain that we will eventually feel we don’t quite measure up. How comforting it is, then, to realize that the goals God has called us to as parents are accomplishable. Any parent in any station of life has the ability to reach his or her child’s heart for Christ and his purposes. All that God requires from any of us is a desire to serve him and a trust that he can make up the difference for the things we lack. The Lord would have us know that he is the one ultimately in charge of our children. He will use our willingness and our efforts, then fill in the gaps of our inadequacies, to prepare their hearts for what he has in mind.”

What a relief. God knows my weaknesses. He’s got this. When I embrace motherhood. When I shift my efforts from trying to figure out if my kids are on the right track- if they’re measuring up to eachother and everyone else- to just loving them and leading them to Him. Spending my efforts on being the kind of servant that I want them to be. Showing them patience, loving them unconditionally, and having right responses to the surprises life brings.

I’ll end with a quote from the book, one the author’s son said to her during an ’emotional crisis’: “Mom, when you are happy and content and easygoing with life, even if it’s not all perfect, we feel good. We don’t need everything to be perfect; we just want you to be happy. But when you start feeling like a failure and overwhelmed with life, it makes us feel guilty, as though it’s our fault and that we haven’t done enough. We feel like we have disappointed you!”

Tagged , ,

Mama Confessions

Today I was that mom.

Let’s start from the beginning. We’re in a hotel for a couple days while we’re having some work done on our house. It’s tight quarters for two adults and two babes. I had really naïve expectations that we would not be greatly impacted by this change of surroundings if I just kept our schedule pretty much the same. Naïve. Naaaaaive. And, consequently, today I was that mom.

You know the mom who is awoken from a deep slumber by a baby in a pack in play [at a time still considered nighttime, rather than early morning] at the end of the bed squawking because he’s realized that he can probably convince you to get him. Then I was that mom who was squeezed in between a husband and a baby and unable to go back to sleep.

I was that mom who sat on the floor reading a book by the light of the bathroom while I waited five hours for everyone else to get up [please tell me I‘m not the only one who can‘t go back to sleep].

That made me the kind of mom who went to both Wal-Mart and Target in one day [ugh].
The kind of mom that gets a venti.
The kind of mom that asks, “Do you really have to go to the potty right now?” [And then the one you see running through the aisles trying to make it in time.] The mom with food on her shirt and throw up on her jeans.

I was the mom you chuckled at from another stall while my toddler and I talked about how we should “train Buddy [14 months]. ‘Cause he poops. And he should put it in the potty. Okay, Buddy? [Rubs head].”

But I was also the one who left the dirty itty bitty undies in the public restroom instead of taking them home to clean out. [Sometimes you gotta cut them loose.]

I was also there letting the two [almost three!!!] year old pick out some nail polish because it’s pretty much her favorite thing right now and honestly, she has great taste.

I was the mom laughing at my toddler when I figured out she was saying, “We’re walking… we’re walking.” down the cosmetics aisles. And when she said, “I love you, Mommy Baker” because she’s totally learned her last name.

That was me you were giving the stink-eye to when I groaned aloud after the contractor called for the fourth time to tell me all the things not going according to plan. Then I was the mom who called her mom to tell her all the stinky things happening [totally made me feel better].

Unfortunately, I was also the mom who had to ask for forgiveness when I rudely answered a had-to-work-late husband’s call. And then more forgiveness when I abruptly ended the call to stop in the middle of the parking lot [yep, that was me] to run to the aid of a vomiting toddler. And then I kept the van parked there and stripped her to her pink polka dot undies [still me]. “Mommy I spit on my flower dress.”

And, for better or worse, I was that mom today that-pulling into the hotel parking lot-thought, “Thank goodness I’m not being given a cumulative grade for this parenting thing.” Tomorrow is a fresh and new day and I’m going into it with a fresh and new attitude. Because honestly, if this was my ‘worst’ day I have A LOT to be thankful for. And I don’t even feel bad about being that mom. I think everybody [er, I hope] has some moments when they do things or have things happen that they swore they’d never do. Totally what happens in the trenches of motherhood. Anybody else been that mom this week? Confession is good for the soul.

Tagged , ,