When I dreamed about being a mother, I was going to be amazing and fun and nurturing and insightful and approachable. I was going to be a wonderful example, etc. etc.
Some days I do note I have moments of greatness, but most of my mothering is practical, consistent, and boring. I'm an average mom trying to do the same stuff that good moms are doing. It's a bit discouraging, but something I heard Jessica say has cheered me on.
I was driving her to dance last week. Her friend said, "when I grow up, I'm going to be a cowgirl." Jessica turned to her and said, "when I grow up, I'm going to be just a normal mom."
My mom was just a normal mom too. She struggled to balance work, family, home, carpools, cooking, cleaning, etc. She held our hands when we crossed the street and tied our shoes. She yelled sometimes and forgot stuff sometimes. But she was there for everything - the good, the cranky, the excitement, the unjust - all of it. She has cheered me forward more than anybody I know. And somehow, doing all that normal stuff for me has made her extraordinary in my eyes. So I guess I'm glad that I'm just a normal mom.














