There are lots of amazing women in this community. And not only are they awesome women, but they are awesome mamas. We know this, because we read about all the things that make it so. We read about love and happiness and sadness and frustration and trial and triumph and some of these are huge occurrences that get lots of attention, and some of these are single sentences that we think nobody is reading.
Some of us are bad mothers. Some of us are Bad Mothers. Some of us are Good Enough Mothers, and some of us are good mothers. Is it semantics? Maybe. Some say no. I tend to think it is, but if it’s not, than I know what I am.
I am a Good Mother. With caps and all.
This is not because my children are loved and cared for and safe and encouraged and cuddled. To me, that is basic mothering, and in my world, it goes without saying that my children are receiving those things from me. Those are the fundamentals of the job – a job that I signed up for, and I try not to forget that.
What makes me a Good Mother is the energy, time and thought I put into the less instinctive, less intuitive aspects of mothering. The deliberate mothering that I do. The cooking I do so that my children will eat healthy, whole food. The nursing I do at 3am simply because my 19-month old has woken up and wants to nurse. The ungodly hour I wake up so I can get to and leave work early, enabling me to spend as much time as possible with my kids during the day. I make play-dough for my kids and then I spend an hour scraping it off the couch. We take our children on outings with their enjoyment specifically in mind. I try to have realistic expectations of my children, and of myself. These are some of the things that, to me, make me a Good Mother. And you know what else makes me a Good Mother, and yes, I will take that gold star now –
I actually, truly, honestly enjoy doing these things for and with my children.
(And ohmygawd, do NOT call me a martyr, because that turns me right into a Bad Blogger.)
I strive to be this, and I am proud and pleased to be this, and this brings me joy, and I wave my Good Mother flag seriously high in the sky.
And you know what else?
It’s not a competition. It doesn’t mean that I’m better than you.
It means that I am the mother of two small girls who are my world, and to them, for at least a little while longer, I am their world.
And I need that world to be a Good one. A really Good one.