Hey there, parents! You’re doing a fantastic job—likely even better than you give yourself credit for. Parenting is a challenging journey, but chances are, you’re nailing it. It’s time to acknowledge your efforts.
I’m not the mother I imagined I would be. I don’t consider myself a bad mom; in fact, I believe I’m an exceptional one. I love my children deeply. Every evening, before they go to bed, I remind them how much I adore them, how proud I am, and how excited I am to see them in the morning.
But I had this vision of being a mom who stayed on top of the laundry, never raised her voice, and never let out a curse word under her breath. For the first couple of years with my eldest, I was that mom—at least to some extent.
Then parenting got tougher.
Kids grow, and now I have three of them. Life throws curveballs, and there are moments when I find myself in the bathroom, surrounded by discarded pajamas and damp towels, exclaiming, “Why doesn’t anyone in this house feel the need to listen to me?! The hamper is just ONE FOOT AWAY!” At least, I do occasionally.
Then there’s our home. We purchased it three years ago; it wasn’t a fixer-upper, but it wasn’t exactly our dream home either. We’ve done some projects to make it more personal, but our budget hasn’t allowed for a complete transformation into the beautiful space I envision. While I’m grateful for our cozy and secure home, it wouldn’t win any awards for curb appeal. I wouldn’t call it “the best house in the whole world,” for instance.
If I had to summarize my family and home, I’d say we’re a happy bunch, I’m a decent mom, and we’re fortunate to live in a warm, safe house—even if it isn’t the most attractive.
How My Child Sees It
Now, let me share how my child perceives it.
Just yesterday, while driving, my eight-year-old asked if I thought our family would still be living in this house when he grows up. I replied that I wasn’t sure; we don’t plan on moving anytime soon, but someday we might. When I asked why he was curious, I assumed he wanted to suggest features for our future home.
Instead, he expressed his desire to buy this house from its next owners when he has his first child. “I want my kids to experience what it’s like to live in the best house in the whole world for kids.”
Immediately, my throat tightened, and tears welled in my eyes. I assured him that if we still lived here, I would let him buy our home so his children could grow up here. Tears eventually streamed down my cheeks. Being a mother is incredibly tough, and this past year has been particularly bizarre. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear his affirmation that he is happy until he said it.
Where I see a modest home with its share of flaws, he sees “the best house in the whole world.” He’s been to plenty of places I’d consider superior to ours. Some of our closest friends reside in a ten-thousand-square-foot mansion. My father’s house boasts a large pool in the backyard. My son has visited homes with beach access and has seen shows depicting ultimate dream homes with indoor slides, giant aquariums, and stables filled with ponies.
But to him, this little house is the best because it’s not about the structure itself. He doesn’t notice the beige vinyl siding I dream of replacing, the muddy driveway that needs gravel, or the cracked concrete leading to the porch. He doesn’t care that our DIY kitchen could use some improvements or that much of our furniture is second-hand. He simply feels the love within these walls.
Yes, this is where I sometimes raise my voice about wet towels and scattered snack wrappers. My kids have chores, like emptying the dishwasher and picking up their toys, and they have to shower even when they think they’re not dirty.
But it’s also where I taught them to make little Italian cookies, rolling and cutting the dough just like my grandmother showed me. Our backyard is where they discovered the thrill of bursting water balloons on a hot summer day. In this home, they can express their emotions freely, whether they’re sad or disappointed, without worrying about what others might think. There’s no other place where my cozy, warm bed and open arms await them if they feel sad, unwell, or lonely in the middle of the night.
I’m sure you have your own story that resonates with this one.
The Reality of Parenthood
This is the reality of parenthood for many of us, isn’t it? We spend most of our time questioning if we’re doing it right. As hard as we try, we often wonder if the magic we’re trying to create is truly evident. We go to bed each night vowing to be more patient and less reactive the next day. It often feels like we’re running in circles, trying to maintain some semblance of order, yet by day’s end, we’re still left with a list of things that need attention.
Our children’s jeans are perpetually stained with mud, we realize our home could use a thorough cleaning right before company arrives, and we’re pretty sure our leg hair could use a good shave more often than it does. There are always things we wish we could improve. Each day presents a new opportunity to critique ourselves.
But our kids don’t see any of that. Every so often, they remind us of all the things we’re doing exceptionally well.
They don’t know about all the worries that keep us awake at night. They simply help us recognize the countless ways we’re getting it right.
Each little act of love we show as parents accumulates in ways we can’t fully comprehend, and our children feel happy and safe because of the love we provide.
From the enthusiastic smiles we give them when they dash to the car after school, to every colorful band-aid and gentle kiss on a scraped knee. Each shared story, each moment spent coloring or playing games, every movie night with microwave popcorn and cozy blankets, and the thoughtful way we choose gifts that align with their interests—all of these actions show them that we want the very best for them.
When my son said our house was his idea of the perfect place to grow up, I felt like the luckiest parent alive. But he was mistaken. Our house isn’t the best for kids in general; it’s the best for MY kids because this is where love truly resides.
If you ask, I bet you’ll discover that your children feel the same way. I’m almost certain they’ll tell you that your home—whether it’s a pristine mansion or a humble abode like mine—is the very best house in the world for kids.
Acknowledging Our Successes
I understand that hearing about how well you’re doing in parenting won’t solve financial issues or erase past traumas. It won’t make co-parenting with your children’s other parent any easier. Acknowledging your successes won’t eliminate the stresses of parenting.
Yet, it’s important for every parent to pause and recognize how many ways you’re truly succeeding. Creating a home filled with love where your children can be their authentic selves is a gift that transforms any house into “the best house in the world for kids.” I’m sure of it.
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Summary:
Parenting is an imperfect journey, and while challenges abound, it’s essential to recognize the love and stability you provide for your children. They may not see the flaws in your home or parenting, but they feel the warmth and affection that make your house their ideal place to grow up. Celebrate the daily victories and the unique ways your children appreciate the love you pour into your family life.