There used to be a running joke in my house about the Mother of the Year award — this illusive award supposedly honouring a worthy mother each year for being the perfect mom.
Every time my mom did something ‘wrong,’ she would blow her chance at receiving it. If she didn’t make the right thing for dinner, didn’t have the right outfits washed, or pretty much if she couldn’t read our minds, the award would be ‘just’ out of reach yet again.
Realistically she should have received the award 100 times over.
At last I am a candidate for the Mother of the Year award, and I can’t wait to NOT win.
I had unrealistic expectations before becoming a mother, especially pertaining to being a parent at Christmastime.
In my fairy tale land of what I thought things would look like, Christmastime would be just perfect, with a beautifully decorated tree, cookies (at least four different kinds) waiting for Santa Claus with his glass of milk, and I would have thought up at least two different traditions to uphold in order to make the holidays extra special. My children would be the perfect balance of thankful and excited for their gifts and at least 50 people would be coming and going, filling our house with joy and memories on Christmas Day.
Oh and lots of Christmas carols too!
As Christmas nears even closer, it is really obvious to me how any chance at receiving any award has been left way back in May.
I finally finished decorating my Christmas tree this week, but I forgot to put on the lights BEFORE the ornaments (adding an extremely frustrating level of complexity) and the tree is tied up to my cupboard so I don't have to go shopping for a tree stand.
But it looks really good from three out of four sides.
While shopping for gifts earlier in the month, I forgot the golden rule of parenting a toddler — don’t take eyes of said toddler for even a second. Why you ask? Because they will be found opening chocolate bar packages in the line-up.
I honestly thought about doing the ‘right’ thing and teaching her about what doing the ‘wrong’ thing means, but it was so funny! And I am impressed that she knew what they were, let alone figure out how to open them.
We haven’t constructed a single snowflake, paper chain or popcorn string yet this Christmas. I love doing crafts and so does my two-year-old daughter, but when I have to constantly remind her that cutting her baby brother’s hair with a pair of scissors is not really the greatest idea if she doesn’t have any training, I’m not really motivated to start building a Christmas mural across the windows.
But we are having a lot of fun.
The good news is I will have many Christmases to practice and perfect my parenting craft. This one may not be the most glamorous or well thought out, and I have a feeling I will be thinking about what I SHOULD have done for quite some time, but I’m working my tail off to be the best imperfect mother I can be!
— Becky Mann is a 30-something, red haired, mother of two, trying to navigate this life as best she can. She enjoys talking to people and discovering their stories. Still trying to balance her personal and professional life, she juggles work and play. In her spare time Becky can be found visiting with friends, spending time with her family and saving time by reading while walking. She knows there is so much more to come and is looking forward to the continued adventure.
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