The Perfect Mom

^ Being a mom of littles is plenty full of challenges. But I won't kid ya. 

Parenting adults is not always a picnic either. All we can do is keep trying. 

Mamas, I want to talk with you. 

About something that I'm pretty sure I know about you. About me. About every single one of us. 

There are times - probably more than we'd like to admit - when as mothers,

we feel inadequate,

we feel like we've messed up, dropped the mothering ball, been less than our kids deserve,

we feel bad about ourselves. 

Right?

Me too. 

But when I find myself once again sinking deep down in that mire of self-condemnation, there's a voice that comes to me begging to differ. "You don't need to be a perfect mom. There's no such thing. Just do your best."

And that voice of wisdom and compassion and love encourages me to pick myself up, dust myself off, and go back to being the best mom I know how to be.

Not a perfect mom.

But the best mom I know how to be. 

And I remember this story. 

Dear mama, when you find yourself stuck in those moments of feeling like a horribly imperfect mom, I hope you will remember it too.

* * * * *

Her name was Shannon.

She lived across the street from me when our kids were young; her two boys the same ages as my two younger girls. Her husband was a good man who made his living on the Bering Sea, living that Deadliest Catch lifestyle for ten or eleven months of every year. During all those long, lonely times they were apart, Shannon was raising her sons as a single parent. 

And her little Vikings truly put her to the test. 

Shannon was gentle and kind: soft-spoken, tender-hearted, thoughtful and generous. 

Her boys were adorable wild things, perpetual motion machines who rough-housed and ran, sacked and plundered through every minute of the day. All boy, as the saying goes. 

And while she loved them dearly, Shannon's boys wore her out. 

She worried like she was not up to the task of raising them. 

She felt that she didn't understand how to be their mom. 

She wondered if she was the wrong mom for her sons. 

We talked about this often, Shannon and I. When we neighborhood moms gathered on the sidewalks or in a family room to chat while our kids played, Shannon and I often paired off, talking quietly together or walking home slowly to savor a few last moments of confidential conversation. And one day, Shannon told me this story.

She'd been on the phone with her mom, sharing her feelings of inadequacy, when her mom brought her up short. 

Shannon, these are your sons. God gave them to you and he doesn't make mistakes. So please, stop doubting yourself and just trust yourself to be their mother. You're not a perfect mom, but you're the right mom for them. 

To be honest, I think Shannon was a little shocked that her mother spoke to her so sharply. But when I asked her what she thought about the wisdom of her mom's words, Shannon simply said, "She's right."

I wish this story had a happier ending. 

Shannon soon began to ease the weight of her loneliness by drinking, and her life spiraled down into alcohol addiction, divorce, and losing custody of her boys. And just when it finally seemed that maybe she was turning a corner into lasting sobriety, she was cut down in a car crash and died instantly.

I still grieve for Shannon. I think of her often and I miss her dearly.

But I trust that she has watched from heaven as her boys have grown into gentle and kind men, soft-spoken and tender-hearted, thoughtful and generous. I figure that Shannon now truly believes that all along, she was indeed the right mom for her boys.

Not the perfect mom. But the right one all along.