Often, people like to make little comments to me when they see me with the girls. The other day, someone saw us all and said, “Wow! You’re a Supermom!”


Well, I must admit, it was flattering, as I am used to usually hearing, or at least seeing, “Crazy mom” written all over their faces.  :)

But I must confess… I’m not a supermom.  I’m really, really, really far from it, I wanted to say.  I get grumpy sometimes.  I lose my temper sometimes.  I cry sometimes.  I get tired someti… all the time.  And my kids?  I think they’re perfect, but truly, they’re not…they’re human, too.  Sometimes they get tired and grumpy, too.  Sometimes, they don’t like to do schoolwork.  Sometimes they struggle, just as anyone else’s kids do.

Example?  Here’s a confession.  My two year old still really struggles with going to sleep.  Really struggles.  By now, all of my others could easily go to sleep fine on their own.  But this little one doesn’t do it so well.  I have never been able to let them cry it out…I’m a big softy.  She and I have always had a very deep bond, from the moment she arrived.  It is harder for both of us, she and I, to separate.  So, Matt or I sit next to her.  Sometimes, it’s not too long, but sometimes, it takes a very long time.

Now, personal judgments that any of you may have on the subject aside, let’s all admit that this could be a challenge.  And tonight, as I sat next to that sweet, funny little girl, rocking a baby in my arms and listening to my other girls breathe, I felt like a very very un-super mom.  “We ought to be past this by now,” I told myself.  I felt down about my parenting skills and began to think of all of the other un-super things I had done today.  I thought with envy of my beautiful friends, most of whom I consider “Supermoms,” who tuck their little ones in and leave the room, with no peeps and no trouble.

But, as the evening ticked on and quiet settled on the house, that sweet two-year-old reached for my hand, and somehow, quiet settled on my mind, too.

I found myself being grateful for these moments, these quiet moments in the dark, just listening to my girls breathe.  I find that when I can stop beating myself up, these moments can be the calmest, sweetest moments of my day.  They give me a chance to feel nothing but love, calm, and quiet, if I let myself sit there in the right frame of mind.  They give me a chance to talk to my Father, to commit to do better, and to count my many, many blessings. 

So I may not ever be a Supermom.  But I wouldn’t trade my life for anything. 

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