I.M.A - Imperfect Mother's Anonymous

I've decided i'm going to start a club - I.M.A. - Imperfect Mother's Anonymous. So that all of us who feel inadequate, overwhelmed, less than perfect... will have a place to go where people can relate. I imagine it will start out with me standing and introducing myself...

"Hello, My name is Brenda, and I am an imperfect mother - I lose my patience, have been known to yell when pushed too far, I can't cook, I'm not crafty, my children are lucky to get veggie's with any meal, in my attempts to teach my 5-year old about strangers I have terrified him into not speaking with anyone (including grandma) and he will now have to go to counseling, and I have been known to put my child in front of a cartoon so I can sit with some ice cream and have a moment of peace and quiet."

(clarification - noah won't actually need to go into counseling, any time soon anyway, but I did terrify him enough about strangers that he wouldn't talk to my mother when she came to visit. And at Noah's 6-year check-up the doctor asked him what his favorite vegetable was and to my horror Noah turned, looked at me and said, "Mom, what's a vegetable?".  For the love.)

Then, in my little club, we will all sit around a table with a bowl of chocolate covered Prozac to pass around and talk about how motherhood is something our mothers never really warned us about. My mother's closest "warning" was her wish that i would end up with a daughter just like me. But i think i should have suspected something was amiss when my mom promised that after hours of labor i would hold that beautiful baby and all the pain would disappear as i looked into this little angel's face. yeah - not so much, mom.  not only did the pain NOT disappear, but i remembered it vividly for the next 2 years.  Frankly, Aaron is lucky I didn't pay the doctor to extend the 6 week rule to 6 years.

At the end of the day, when the kids are in bed and I can sit down, I love to close my eyes and listen to the sweet sound of silence. Eventually, I'll quietly slip into Noah's room and watch him sleeping and it's all I can do to not pick him up and hold him and tell him how much I love him. I look at this peaceful little boy, so calm, so sweet and innocent and I remember why I became a mom and why i'll try again tomorrow to be a better, more patient mother.