"The Magazine"

I am sitting, somewhat patiently, somewhat impatiently in the Doctor's office. Naomi has another ear infection. We know these all too well. For a moment, a breif moment, Jake is playing well with his sister. I grab a magazine. I never get to read a magazine. It seemed sureal. I opened it up. The first article I came to. A mother was explaining why her kids are so well behaved. I felt like gagging...but I kept reading. She explained that she started when they were young. Apparently, all she had to do was let them know what was expected of them when they were little. Now, because of her great parenting skills, all she has to do is to is to "give her kids the look" and they miraculously never make a wrong decision. I literally felt like jumping into the pages of the magazine and giving that perfect mom a piece of my mind.

I have to admit it. I was the one who before I had kids, I was the perfect mom. I knew everything. My kids were never going to be irrevreverant in church. They were going to be the most respectful kids in their class and of course, they were never, ever going to disrespect me.

I only got through this one article before my 10 month old scampered over to a table, and lovingly threw every single flyer on the ground. As I hurriedly picked them up, my four year old was causing mischief behind me. The doctor's visit was fine. Jake did lose his basketball to the black lined garbage can basketball hoop. A small price to pay for keeping him occupied.

We then went to pick up William from school. I let the kids play on the playground while I enjoyed my only time of day interacting with other adults. Naomi couldn't keep the wood chips out of her mouth. William apparently hurt someone's feelings, and Jake decided to kick Naomi of the curb. "Why did you do that?" I asked. "She needs to know that I am stronger than her." I sat him on the curb to punish him. He smiled, jumped up, ran around the playground and turned his punishment into a game repeating the words, "I don't like you." I was humiliated. I handed my baby to a friend. I chased Jake around the playground. I sat him down again and threatened his life. He sat. I stood. Embarassed. He was yelling, "I don't like you." My friend asked, "Is he your hard one?" I couldn't answer. I didn't know what to say. How could I admit that no one in my house takes me seriously. My innocnet baby girl was all over the place at church the other day. With attitude. Everyone told me that girls are better behaved. I disagree. I looked at James through emotionally drained eyes. I smiled. "Well", I said. "She's a Ford." He smiled back.

There may be perfect children out there. They are probably being raised by perfect parents. I thought that I was the perfect parent. Heavenly Father knows me too well. Today is April Fool's Day. I think of Heavenly Father up there saying to me as lovingly as possible, "April Fool's".

I was a perfect parent. I knew it all.

And then I had my children.

Motherhood is amazing. How is it possible to be so emotionaly spent, and love someone so much? I am not a perfect mom. And it's a good thing. My life is never boring. I will never stop learning. Every flyer I pick up from the ground, every time I hear that my children don't like me, and every time I feel as if I am failing, I am only getting better. I am grateful I am not the mom in the magazine. She must not have kids as exciting as the Ford's. I am truly blessed.