Well. I don’t know about you, but after admitting this week how hard parenting is, I feel better about motherhood…not because I’ve figured it all out, but because I know I’m not alone.

I have proof that 500 other women have desperate moments in their motherhood journey. It’s like we’re a posse of honest confessions. Yo.

And now I’d like to sit down with you over a virtual cup of coffee because I need to tell you something else. Do you like my *mug? 

I want to whisper an important truth in your ear. You need to hear this today. More importantly, you need to believe it:  it’s okay to be an okay mom.

Some days I’m an awesome mother–I mean knock-it-out-of-the-ballpark–kind of awesome. But that’s not the norm. I have really bad days where I hide in the bathroom and change all the clocks so everyone goes to bed an hour early. Just kidding, but I’ve seriously considered it. So, if you add the really great days with the really not-so-hot ones, they equal okay. And that’s well, okay.

My kids don’t need perfection, they are actually learning all the things I so desperately long to teach them because of my inadequacy. It’s  powerful when I apologize or ask them to pray for me. I’m admitting failure but I’m also teaching them strength. It’s a positive lesson in humility when they see me ask God for help in my weakness.

Some days I feel like Joni, who left this painfully honest comment:

“I actually feel like I’ve accidently stepped into a dark deep hole and haven’t hit the bottom yet. . .There are no pinch hitters; this is the motherhood no one talks about. Be 100% for both kids and still have something left. Haven’t yet figured out a way to keep from feeling like a failure.” -Joni

I want to talk about this motherhood- the one no one talks about because honestly we can’t achieve the motherhood we all expect of ourselves. This is the raw place where our high expectations meet the reality of our back-talking teen and a baby who won’t sleep anywhere but our chest. This is the real motherhood we live.

We are human. And some days are good, we fly thru them with ease. While other days are so hard we cry ourselves to sleep and regret our mistakes. But however we rate our days, we have to remember we are not alone and we don’t serve a God who keeps track. He offers us grace, just like we offer our children when they mess up. Not only are there countless mothers experiencing the same things we are,  there’s a Great Friend who is desperate for us to lean on Him.

I may not be the World’s Best Mom. But I’m okay and that’s enough for today.

*photo source

In an instant, I was furious.

I’d gone into my teenager’s room to look for something and I couldn’t believe the mess. She told me she had “cleaned” her room all weekend and yet it resembled the aftermath of a tornado on a Monday morning.

I fumed all day.

She got in the car after school and I could tell by the look on her face it had been a hard day in junior high.

“You okay?” I asked tentatively, the way a mother has learned.

She took a deep breath, “I saw something happen today that was wrong. I told my teachers. I had to do the right thing,” her voice, wobbly. The story unraveled, the infraction and the injustice.

My anger fizzled as I forgot about her room and pondered heavier things.

The next day she brought home straight A’s on her report card. For the eighth year in a row.

The following, a Star Student Award for Caring for Others.

And on Friday when I picked her up, she wore a medal around her neck from her basketball coach for showing leadership and being the athlete with the most heart.

Her room was still a disaster. But it didn’t seem to matter quite as much.

She’s just 13. And I’m ashamed I had to be reminded all week by others what life is really about. Each day I saw my amazing daughter thru the eyes of her teachers and friends and it showed me how ridiculous our constant, often heated battles over her messy room and laundry piles really are.

Parenting is hard, no doubt. But I’ve found that I often make the whole thing a lot harder. After all, my children are children. I’m the adult in this relationship and with that authority comes maturity and wisdom.

The hardest part of parenting is me. And in the thick of it, I see that I’m the one being parented by God.

I look deeper–past the dirty room and scattered laundry and I see it there; it wears a different face, but under the layers of order, I see my nasty desire for control. Because really? The battles aren’t about a clean room or tidy drawers, folded laundry or emptied trash. It’s about my unhealthy desire to be in control of things that don’t really matter because I’m not in control of things that really do.

I’ve been a mom for more than a dozen years now and I’m still learning and taking my discipline as it comes. I’m still learning to choose my battles and let go of the trivial.

My goal as a mother is to raise children who love God and love others. I still long for organized rooms, tidy toys and clean laundry, but I’m trying hard to keep the little stuff little.

I’m raising incredible kids. And if I step back and out of the way, I’m able to see it with my own eyes.

And close them (and her bedroom door- ha!) to unimportant things.