I am not the mom I want to be.
I want to be the Pinterest mom with a cute crafts that I can hang on the refrigerator for my kids. Instead, I am the mom making the cut-out hand turkey three days after Thanksgiving. Did I mention my turkey is green because I don’t have brown construction paper?
I want to be the mom with the beautiful clean kitchen that glistens like there’s a magical light touching it. Instead, I am the mom running around with a vacuum chasing ants off the kitchen floor yelling at the kids for dropping a bread crumb.
I want to be the mom that speaks love and goodness, truth and beauty into my children. I want them to hear great words, rich language, well-crafted sentences. Instead they hear me mutter ‘oh shit’ when I can’t find my keys. They hear me scream, ‘fuck’ when I drive by the cop going too fast. They hear ‘son of a bitch’ when I can’t get a toy together.
And in a moment of complete honesty, I would say that my son can repeat all the curse words but has yet to memorized one single Bible verse.Continue reading