I Believe That It’s Okay To Not Be Perfect
When I became a mother, I had such high expectations of myself. I vowed that my son would never eat a McDonald’s Happy Meal, that every day would be filled with fun yet challenging activities and the only toys in the house would be educational ones.
I look around my life now, three years on, and I smile at my own naivety as I recall yesterday’s trip to the drive thru’ because I’d just done the weekly shop with two kids in tow and was no-way-in-this-world-ever going to start cooking when I got home. I cast my mind back just a few more days when, at 7am, I dragged myself out of bed to get out paints and play doh for my son to amuse himself with just so he would leave me alone for half an hour.
When these (and the 100’s of others I’m imposed on myself) unrealistic expectations began to fade I started to realise that motherhood is actually not about doing the best of everything for and with your child, but doing the best you can. So what if he doesn’t have a bath every single day – will he die? No – I very much doubt it. If he eats chips more than once a week will he be fat? Nope!
I think of the mothers I hear about (but don’t actually know any real ones) who tick all the boxes when it comes to being a ‘great parent’ – do they actually exist? If they do – are they happy?
In my opinion, a beautiful person is one that is real in every sense of the word. One who makes mistakes, one who cries, one who feels all emotions – including the yukky ones. Not someone who strives so hard to be their own version of perfect that they forget who they were in the first place.
Motherhood: I’m not perfect at it, but I’m good enough,
and there’s nothing wrong with that.