My coffee was hot, my mango sweet, and my avocado toast with a poached egg just the way I like it. Mother’s Day breakfast in bed was off to a great start. My boys were all smiles as they handed me their cards and gifts as I enjoyed my breakfast.
As I was opening my oldest son’s gifts, I almost choked on my coffee.
At school, he was given an assignment to write a persuasive essay on why his mom is the best.
“My mom is the best because…”
Throughout the entire essay, every time he started the paragraph, he added “(kind of)’ before “best.”
“My mom is (kind of) the best because…”
My first reaction was laughter. Then I felt a little sad. Then I got curious.
He very matter-of-factly shrugged his shoulders and said, “What? You are like, kind of the best. It’s the truth.”
Fair enough. I kissed him and thanked him for his honesty.
Later that day, I gave it some more thought. He is exactly right.
I am not the best.
Before I had kids, I thought I would be. I have always loved children, received rave reviews as a summer camp counselor, adored my niece and nephew, and always played with them happily.
But as a mom, I have made so many mistakes.
I am less patient than I ever knew. At my worst moments, I have yelled, cursed, and cried tears of frustration and overwhelm. I am far from perfect and certainly not the best.
But I do try my best.
I apologize when I am wrong, or I lose my cool. I work on myself to stay as balanced as possible so I can show up as the best version of myself. I am present when I play with them, and I will never stop striving to do better.
I am not at all perfect. And maybe that’s ok.
Maybe then they won’t have to feel like they have to be perfect. Maybe they are learning too that it’s ok to make mistakes but it’s important to repair the situation afterwards.
I am their safe space. They can be honest with me. The fact that my son can express truthfully that he sees that I am not perfect gives me hope that he will always be able to be straight with me.
And if, in his nine-year-old brain, I am not the best because I won’t let him play every violent video game or consume excess amounts of chemically altered and artificially dyed foods all the time, then I don’t want to be the best anyway.
But I will always do what I feel is best for him.
Besides, my little one still thinks I’m the best, and when the day comes when he realizes that I am not, I will be waiting with open arms and an open heart to help him through it.
Needed this today. Thank you for sharing. Cheers to all the “kind of best moms.” We are all doing the darn thing.