What is a good mom? All I know is that I am told that I am one every day. By friends. By Facebook admirers. By co-workers. You see, a lot of these people think that what I go through on a daily basis is too much for most people to take. I guess I tend to agree. My problem with the sentiment, is that they think I am a “good” mom because I don’t complain. They don’t hear the voices in my head of regret, of worry, of resentment. I try to tell them about the sleepless nights, the days where my kids eat nothing but McDonald’s and most never see the state of my house. They see snippets, pictures posted on social sites and blogs about my baking triumphs, or something extraordinary that one of my children did that day.
I have triumphs. My children are extraordinary. I am a good mom. I am so far from perfect. I am probably about as perfect as you are. I have daily battles with myself, with my home, with my children. I think that part of my problem is that I’m not as vocal about the imperfections of our lives. Yes, I know, my blog is about two Special Needs boys, of course they are imperfect. I think my new mission should be to show the good and the bad. The ugly that comes before the reward. To me, that’s what makes a good mom. Honesty.
I’m even thinking of changing my blog name to “The Good Mom” or “The Good Woman.” I want to show women and mothers out there that the “good” ones are the ones that fail. The “good” ones are the ones that can say, “I fucked up, and here’s how I’m going to fix it.” The “good” ones know how to ask for help. I spent a lot of years feeling sorry for myself, for many reasons other than what goes on with my children. If there is one thing that I’ve learned from my grandmother, it is that I refuse to sit here and be a victim. I refuse to grow old with no friends or family to love me because I have given up on my failures. I choose to take my failures and turn them into learning experiences.
I so despise being called a good mom. Isn’t that bizarre? I think it’s because the reasoning behind it is more often than not what it should be. I want to be seen as good because I fail, and because I can admit it. That, my friends, is the definition of good.