There’s a mom at Evan’s preschool who I once thought epitomized the ideal mother. You know the type—one of the few stay-at-home moms who manages to show up every day in something other than the usual yoga pants and a comfy tee. She’s always impeccably put together, with no evidence of her kids’ breakfast or sticky fingers adorning her outfit. She volunteers in the classroom several times a week and spends those precious minutes before school starts reading softly to her little one. When bake sales roll around, her brownies look so delectable that mine might as well be a science experiment gone wrong. She seems unfazed by anything, and I could almost swear there was a halo hovering above her head.
Last spring, another mom from school was kind enough to host a book launch party for me at her home. I read a chapter from my book, followed by a Q&A and some delightful snacks. Surrounded by familiar faces and a few new ones, I was grateful to celebrate with so many relatable mothers. Then, out of nowhere, I spotted her—the Ideal Mom—making her way towards me. What could she possibly want? Did she really think she could relate to anything I had written?
To my astonishment, she greeted me with, “I have to tell you, I absolutely loved your book. I could have written nearly every word myself. It felt so much like me.”
Wait, what?! How could she relate to anything in my book? I often used her as the benchmark for the unattainable perfection I could only dream of. She was the one who always looked flawless and handled life’s challenges with such poise. While I felt like I was barely scraping by, she seemed to have everything down to a science. Had she accidentally picked up the wrong book?
Instead of voicing my confusion, I blurted out my shock, sounding like a lunatic since we hadn’t even been properly introduced. To my surprise, she erupted in laughter. “Me? Perfect?” she chuckled, snorting loudly, sending that imaginary halo tumbling down.
She went on to share her secrets: the only reason she showers in the morning is to wake herself up; without that cold water jolt at 7 AM, she wouldn’t even get out of bed. Those flattering jeans she wears? Oh, they’re paired with Spanx to hide her cellulite, and she avoids yoga pants like the plague. She reads to her child in the morning because, by evening, she’s too exhausted, and he usually falls asleep watching a DVD. And those brownies I admired? Her mother bakes them because cooking is not her forte at all.
Hello, new favorite person!
Sadly, her son started kindergarten last fall, so I don’t see her as often, but she remains in my thoughts. Whenever I find myself making snap judgments or feeling inadequate compared to other mothers, I can hear her laughter and picture her halo falling. That encounter was a pivotal parenting lesson for me.
It turns out, there’s no such thing as a perfect mother—really! So why not stop chasing after an impossible ideal and just embrace being ourselves?
If you’re interested in exploring more about home insemination, check out this post on intracervical insemination. For those on a fertility journey, Make a Mom is a great source of information. And if you’re looking for resources on pregnancy, visit ASRM for valuable insights.
In summary, it’s important to remember that striving for perfection in motherhood is not only unrealistic but also unnecessary. Being true to ourselves is the best path forward.