Ever have one of those days, when mothering drains you dry? When lil’ Princess Leia has a hysterical meltdown in the candy aisle, or Mama’s boy Roy decides to taste-test his fresh nose pickings during the children’s choir performance. Or drama queen Ilene screams with a vengeance those three heart-shattering words you never, ever, in a million years expected to hear: “I hate you!”
You’re just over it.
Over your head.
Overdrawn.
Overrun.
You’re sure it’s as obvious to everyone else as it is to you: you’re just not good enough. Other moms don’t seem to have these problems; they
must be doing it right. Their kids don’t flush the hamster down the toilet, bash the TV with a hockey stick, refuse to eat anything green except M&M’s, tie the neighbor dog’s legs together, wet their toothbrush without actually using it, and bathe only the “important parts.”
Wait. Or do they?
I’ve got a newsflash for you, my kerfluffled friend: you’re not the only one who thinks her maternal arrows are missing the bull’s-eye. We all do. On some days – okay, many days – those arrows do fly willy-nilly, but it’s okay. Hear me? I’ll say it again: It’s okay if you miss the target. God created you to be enough for the specific needs of your children.
Even when you don’t feel like it, it’s true: You. Are. Enough.
Now breathe. And try to relax a little. You’re not ruining your kids any more than your parents ruined you by their parenting mistakes (no eye-rolling, please; I’m not finished).
In fact, your heavenly Father spins many of those very mistakes to make you a better person and a better parent.
God is in the redemption business; He specializes in redeeming defective and damaged people.
Hey, flaws are not necessarily a bad thing – look at diamonds. They have flaws, and the inclusions (flaws) mark them as unique and belonging to a specific owner. The owner can claim that particular diamond as his own because of the flaws.
Just God embraces ownership of us, flaws and all.
So the next time you’re embarrassed up the gazoo over your kids’ incorrigible behavior, or feel shame over your mothering inadequacies, or writhe in guilt for, well, everything, try thinking outside the [sand]box and give up your impossible goal of perfectionism.
Perfection is still depicted in the media as something attainable, something others have but you don’t. It’s an illusion. Perfect moms and perfect children don’t exist.
My best advice for perfectionist moms is profoundly wise: Get over it. And repeat this crazed-mom creed every morning:
The Overachiever’s Get-Over-It Creed
(based on Philippians 4:13)
“I can do all things through Christ”
Does NOT mean
I will do all things,
All at once,
All by myself,
All before the sun goes down.
Overachievers can’t enjoy living in the mom-moment because they’re always buried by their bloopers. Okay girl, stop counting your failures and ignoring your successes.
Think of three good mothering things you did today (yes, you may include feeding them, clothing them, and driving them to soccer, even if it was three bowls of Froot Loops, her shirt was on backwards, and you forgot his cleats).
Hey, just keeping them alive one more day gets you a gold star.
If you can’t dredge up three, make something good happen before the day is over. With apologies to my health-foodie friends, how about a little fudge-making fellowship with the kiddos after dinner?
Or doughnuts – my kids had a blast when we made homemade doughnuts together when we cut the centers out of canned biscuit dough 
with a spice jar lid, fried the doughnuts and holes in cooking oil, then dropped them into a brown paper bag containing powered sugar. They took turns shaking the bag until the luscious finger-lickin’ doughnuts were removed, cooled, and scarfed.
But not necessarily in that order.
Now that they’re grown, my kids make doughnuts the exact same way with their little ones. Mmm. Happy food memories last forever. In the same way love covers a multitude of sins, confectioners’ sugar covers a multitude of mom- mistakes.
Remember, God chose YOU to be the mother of your children. Because He knew that despite your ugliest, messiest Momzilla moments … You. Are. Enough.
“I have loved you … with an everlasting love. With unfailing love I have drawn you to myself” (Jeremiah 31:3 NLT).
*Adapted from Deb’s new book, Too Blessed to be Stressed for Moms. Used with permission from Barbour Publishing.
