When I had my first kid, I had some pretty ambitious ideas about what being a good mom looked like.
I was going to be present. Patient. Understanding. I wasn’t going to yell unless it was absolutely necessary. I was going to listen to my child, calmly explain things, and handle difficult situations like the emotionally regulated adult in the room.
Which is honestly very cute looking back.
Four kids later, my definition of a good mom has changed a little.
Some days, being a good mom looks pretty close to what I imagined. I’m patient. I’m present. I listen to the very long story even though I have absolutely no idea who any of these people are. We sit on the couch and talk. I give decent advice. Everyone gets where they need to go with most of the things they were supposed to bring.
Look at me go.
And some days? Did everybody survive? Great. Did everybody eat? Fantastic. Does everyone have a home, clean clothes, and reasonable confidence that their mother loves them despite the fact that she absolutely lost her shit over a pair of shoes at 7:42 this morning?
We’re doing just fine.
Because here’s something First-Time-Mom Me didn’t account for. Sometimes you’re going to yell about the shoes.
Not because the shoes are actually that important. But because you said to put them on ten minutes ago. Then five minutes ago. Then two minutes ago. Now you’re standing by the front door holding seventeen things, someone can’t find their water bottle, somebody else suddenly remembers there’s a paper you were supposed to sign, and the child who was told to put on shoes has spent the last ten minutes doing literally anything besides putting on shoes.
So you yell.
PUT. YOUR. SHOES. ON.
Thirty seconds later, you’re driving down the road thinking…
Susie.
They were shoes.
I used to think moments like that meant I had failed somehow. A good mom would’ve stayed calm. A good mom would’ve gotten down on their level. A good mom probably would’ve calmly explained natural consequences while maintaining a resting heart rate of 62.
Good for her.
I have four children and we’re late.
These days, I’m starting to think being a good mom has a lot less to do with getting it right every single time.
Which is convenient, because I absolutely do not.
Sometimes I yell when I shouldn’t. Sometimes I realize five minutes later that my reaction was way bigger than whatever I was reacting to. And sometimes I end up sitting on the edge of somebody’s bed later saying, “Hey. I shouldn’t have yelled at you this morning.”
Not, “I shouldn’t have yelled, BUT YOU…”
Just, I shouldn’t have yelled.
Then I tell them what I was actually trying to say before my brain decided louder was apparently the best available option.
We have a saying in our house: “Tomorrow is a new day. We will all strive to be better than we were today.”
I say it to my kids all the time. Had a bad day? Tomorrow is a new one. Made a bad choice? Own it. Fix what you can. Try again. Were you a complete butthead to your sibling for reasons known only to you and God? Maybe let’s not do that tomorrow.
I genuinely believe this.
For everyone else, apparently.
Because once all four kids are asleep, their mother clocks in for the night shift at Parenting Internal Affairs.
Was I too hard on her? Did I actually listen when he was telling me that story? Was I on my phone too much? Did I spend enough time with everybody? Should I have handled that consequence differently? Did everybody feel loved today? Am I raising emotionally healthy adults? Will they call me when they’re grown?
Because apparently keeping four humans alive all day wasn’t enough. I also need to complete my nightly performance evaluation.
Meanwhile, the child from the shoe incident has been asleep for three hours. Hasn’t thought about the shoes once. Probably doesn’t even know where the shoes are now.
And I’m lying there wondering if the Great Shoe Meltdown of 7:42 A.M. will somehow be mentioned in therapy twenty years from now.
Eventually, I realize I should probably try taking my own advice.
Except apparently the version I give myself is a little less gentle.
Tomorrow is a new day, dumbass.
You literally just told everyone.
…
But also.
Why DID you yell about the shoes like that??
