I'm a Perfect Mom & My Kids Are, Too (and Other Lies I Tell Myself) Motherhood

Growing up I always dreamed about motherhood. I was the youngest of six in a very poor family with a chaotic childhood, but I still had hopes for the future and it always included children. Who knew that just having kids didn't make you a good parent? Even after 28 years I still work at it every day and often fail miserably.

Just this morning I had an argument with my 12-year-old daughter about who eats more ice cream. She started it. See, sometimes I suck at being June Cleaver. Most days I end up looking like Frankie Heck. Full of love, but a hot mess.

In my defense, no one told me when you have four kids, or even just one for that matter, they aren't going to be cookie cutters versions of you. They will be unique, and quite possibly nothing like you. They will argue with you when you are wrong (hooray for that because we need more people who stand up for themselves).

And those perfect kids? They are hard working and I am proud of them often, but some (many) days when words fly out of their mouths that would shock any sailor or they shoot attitude my way, I wonder what mother would tolerate that behavior and who the hell raised them that way. That'd be me.

The perfect mother.

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