Confessions of a slacker mom

I read an excerpt from a new parenting book the other day. It's written by a pediatrician who's also a mom, named Meg Meeker. Her book is called, The 10 Habits of Happy Mothers: Reclaiming Our Passion, Purpose, and Sanity.

The following is from the introduction of her book:
"We are a group that wants desperately to be good at what we do. We want to be good to our friends and husbands and we want to be great to our kids. We love intensely and we work hard. But we have a problem.......

.......We stress over how well we are parenting and if we are taking full advantage of other opportunities. But mostly, we worry about what we can do for our kids in order to make their lives better. We do this because we really want to be good at mothering. We want to get it right, just as we want to get our jobs right.

This need — to get parenting right — has become an obsession for many of us. It consumes our thinking, our energy, and our time. Let me be clear: Striving to be a great mom is a noble goal, and as a pediatrician, I applaud those who choose it. But that’s not what I’m referring to. I am talking about a full-blown obsession with getting mothering right. And it is taking many of us down.

We have become competitors. We have learned over the past twenty-five years to compete with other mothers and compete with ourselves. The problem is, none of us feels as though we’re winning."

When you hang out with other moms, it's nearly impossible not to enter the competition. You're always internally wondering how you measure up, whether your kids are as happy and well-adjusted as those of your friends, and whether you're making all the right choices when it comes to feeding and dressing and entertaining them.

I have a few confessions to make, just because I want to get them off my chest. I don't think any of these things make me a bad mom, but all the same, doubts creep in from time to time when I hear so many other people talking about the right things they do.

- We don't shop or eat organic. Or have a desire to.
- We don't eat enough vegetables.
- I feed my kids hot dogs and deli meat.
- I don't feel terribly bad about letting them have kids meals at fast food joints.
- I let Justin drink Sprite almost every time we go out to dinner as a family.
- We probably have too much TV time.
- I don't like to cook - heck, I don't even like being in the kitchen. So we have a lot of convenience foods instead of homemade goodness.
- I don't really read parenting books, mostly because I don't have time.

I really need to stop comparing myself to other moms. We're all unique and will do the things that we're comfortable doing. And I love my boys to pieces.

My boys are cute

This week I had Tyler's pictures taken for his 18 month milestone. He wore an outfit that Justin wore for Easter two years ago. I decided to compare them at the same age in the same clothes and here is the result:



I posted this online, and quite a few people commented on the resemblance between the two of them. I don't see it, except they have the same clothes on! But, they are cute, no matter what.

You'll Never Know, Dear, How Much I Love You

A few weeks ago, I noticed that Justin's pants were starting to become a little short. They are not quite flood stage, but the size 4 that was too long on him just last fall are not going to last him through summer. It's not just one brand, either, so I can't say that they run small - he has at least 3 different brand names in his closet. And I wash everything in cold water and don't dry them dry -- so I've crossed shrinking off the list. No, my boy is just getting taller.

So yesterday, I decided I would compare a new size 4 with a new size 5 to see how they stack up, lengthwise and waist-wise. There was probably an inch of difference in the ones I looked at, and since they had an adjustable waist, I bought one pair of size 5. I put them on him this morning and they fit great. Just a smidge long, but they don't drag the ground. On one hand, I was really proud of that -- he's getting so big and tall and handsome. But tonight, as I held him in my lap to sing songs before bed, I realized he's not a toddler any more. He's a full-fledged kid. He's about 41 inches tall, according to the marks on the wall at preschool. Since I'm only 5'2" myself, that means he's a mere 20-ish inches away from catching me. That's the length he was at birth. SOB!

As we were singing, he stopped me and said, "Mommy, you didn't sit next to me while I was watching Clifford. I need you to sit next to me tomorrow while I watch my show." Wow, buddy, you bet I do. I can't miss any more seconds to quickly check Facebook, or send an email, or see what the headlines are. You're growing up too fast on me and I need to hold on to every possible moment.

The last song I sing to him every night is "You Are My Sunshine". The words are just so appropriate for a parent to sing to a child:

You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine.
You make me happy,
When skies are gray.
You'll never know, dear,
How much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away.

He's not my only sunshine, as I have two of them. But it's so true, I never knew how much my parents loved me until I became a parent myself. As I sang the verse to Justin tonight, my voice broke. I hope he didn't notice, but I did hug him just a little tighter. When I was finished singing, I just held him tight for a minute. He said, "Mommy, tell me I'm your good boy."

Oh sweetie, you are Mommy's good boy. And you will never know just how much I love you.