Last week my kids painted the floor in their rooms, and this week they took out markers and drew on the carpet. I paid for a carpet cleaner last week. Do I bring them back 7 days later? Doesn’t that make me look like a crap parent? I’m failing.
I don’t fail at anything. I was a straight A student in grad school. I have extremely high performance reviews at my job, and yet most mornings I fail motherhood. The most important area of my life is the only one I can’t seem to master. I’m not sure if my kids are just extra hyper or if their mother is extra weak. But after making eggs and turkey bacon for breakfast, and warming up decaf tea for them to enjoy, I hoped that if I acted like I was crushing motherhood, maybe I’d feel like it, and then they colored on my carpet. And now I just want to cry in a closet.
So this is for the mommas who aren’t nailing it. This is for the women crying over spilled milk. It’s for the girls who so desperately want to feel like we are in control of children who are clearly in control of us; we are going to be fine.
We may never have perfectly clean homes or folded laundry. We may never feel like we get the respect we deserve. But we will be fine. They don’t see us failing. Love never looks weak.
So cry for a moment, eat a tin of thin mints, and then say out loud with confidence, “you’re fine.” Because fine is better than failure. And it’s all I can muster up.