Balance? Imperfections? Wait, What?
I am pretty much a pro at laundry, cooking dinner, paying bills, working from home, refereeing a fight over a Barbie, all while nursing a baby. That seems pretty balanced to me, right?
W R O N G.
Well then it just has to be this magical aura of work, home, and self care all while making time for Jesus, your husband, and your mom friends?
Am I right now?
Ok, I’ll be honest-I struggled balancing carrying a kid on my hip, purse, diaper bag, and just one grocery bag in the house.
“Finding balance means accepting your imperfections.”
Ouch, that has a slight sting to it…
I think I like the weight of the world on my shoulders a little better than accepting my flaws.
I have struggled with finding balance since conceiving my first daughter almost 30 years ago. I was 19, single, and knew I was being judged harshly. People told me I was too young. I had it embedded in me that I could not fail. I told myself over and over that I had to cover my imperfections and do it on my own.
Anyone that knows me, knows I let 99% of everything go. I don’t take things personally. I forgive every time and I forgive easily and quickly, often without an apology. But…You say anything about the kind of mother I am and it’s on!
If the quote is accurate, and honesty is the best policy, then I can finally breathe a huge sigh of relief.
Having 6 daughters, you would think I would have realized how important grasping my imperfections truly is. After all, I am not in the running for Mom of the Year.
In fact, my favorite coffee mug says World’s Okayest Mom, and I own that. But I struggle to own my faults to myself and even more, to my children.
I think it’s important for our children to hear us apologize.
I think it’s important for our children to hear us pray for them and over them.
I think it’s important for our children to see us own our imperfections.
I know it’s important that they see we are human.
The rest of the world sees our imperfections; it’s time to own them with grace and a smile.
Like when you realize you did not brush your child’s hair before school.
Or when you totally forget about their best friend’s birthday party.
Or burn dinner, and drop the F-bomb yourself?
Can we dig a little deeper now?
Speaking for myself, and I’m sure I am not alone, but I’ve had to get on my knees, eye level with my daughters, several times in my motherhood career and apologize for saying something so hurtful. Words that can haunt them for years.
I’ve had to apologize for making poor life choices that almost sent me to prison for life. Apologizing with tears streaming down my face for trying to take my own life and leave them without a mother. There are some apologies that are much harder to get out, but I urge you to get them out!
Whether it be something big, life altering or something smaller, like nursing after a spray tan, we are not perfect. No one knows that better than we do, but we struggle to own it.
I am here to urge each of you fantastic, awesome, hard-working, life-changing, loved, cherished, and honored moms (that honestly are on a pedestal) to embrace your imperfections.
Trust me, it’s much easier to smile and shrug the shoulders that carry the weight of the world, than to pretend life is perfect.
We know the filters. We love them. Know what else we love? The moments right before and after that picture is taken. The truth-the funny, the raw, the real.
Messy buns, yesterday’s makeup, flip flops and fur coats, funny faces, and all the moments that they remember mom the best. Flaws and all.
The moments we loved the hardest because we had failed and needed to be real.
The imperfections that turn into the greatest memories that bring us the most joy.
Seeing mom change.
Hearing your adult children tell you that they can always depend on you for advice because you’ve made mistakes and you grew from them.
Find that balance between doing everything right, and doing it real.
Own your imperfections and know you really are not being judged. In fact, it’s a relief to see other moms own their crazy life. We don’t have to be something we aren’t.
Maybe your kids are young, but they grow quickly and you soon realize how perfectly imperfect motherhood really is.