There is no such thing as a perfect parent. So just be a real one. — Sue Atkins

I have to get this out, and I have to hurry — fast! 

The kids are running, the dog is barking to be let out, the dishwasher just dinged, and not 5 minutes ago the washer stopped its spin cycle and I those clothes are still calling me to put them in the dryer. 

Ever gotten a nice warm blanket or towel straight out of the dryer and wrapped it right around yourself because you could? It’s a delight. 

See, mom guilt is around you everywhere… and if I don’t hustle through this piece right now it may never see the light of day. 

Because, clothes, and dogs, and meals and, and, AND….

For God’s sake, can I catch a break to be me? 

Maybe… someday….

This is a moment with my mind, no holds barred, and quickly, because if I don’t set a timer and stop when the timer dings, it will never get posted. If you see something that needs to be corrected in my grammar, then send a private note, if you must, otherwise ignore the imperfections and enjoy the story.

Because…

I’m supposed to be writing my book, not this….

My husband just called me out that if I’m not writing book content and testing it, then I am not singularly focused enough to meet the deadline. 

But….

But, it’s important enough for any mom out there who is in conflict. 

Am I doing this parenting thing right?

I picked my daughter up from school on Friday and I made her cry for a reason I never expected. But, that was Friday and this is already Monday…

The sun was shining and I took her to the park to let her play. When it was time to go pick my oldest up from school she wanted to climb the fence, but there wasn’t time…. we had to go, right now to be on time for pick-up…

I hugged her and whispered in her ear as I helped her over the fence: 

I love you and I’m proud of you.

The kid broke down and cried huge crocodile tears as strong as the torrents of a raging river.

Thank you, Mommy! You’re proud of me, you really are? 

I am broken. 

How can she not know I am proud of her? 

She deserves, at least that, and love, food, and security…

As I hug her tighter I lift her from the ground and hold her even tighter all the way to the car. By the time we get there my cheek is wet with her tears and my shirt carries the water spots of what’s over-spilled. 

What have I done wrong? How does she not know I am proud of her? 

Sometimes I struggle with whether or not to fold clothes, pick up toys. cook meals, or just take a minute to breathe. 


As I cuddle her to sleep that night I ask: 

Do you really not know I am proud of you? 

Sometimes I do, Mommy, and sometimes I don’t…

Do you always know Mommy loves you? 

Yes, I always know that. 

Then always know Mommy loves you and is proud of you. 

What do you need to tell your kids right now that you assume they already know? 

Do it today!

If you’re enjoying this site, thank Nicole. She’s the creative mind behind PublishousNow.com. She’s also the community-building guru who can help you build your own thriving communities online; check out her resources at NicoleAkers.com. If you’re more into health and wellness, Nicole can help there too! Find a wealth of health at WeTalkHealthy.com.
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If you’re enjoying this site, thank Nicole. She’s the creative mind behind PublishousNow.com. She’s also the community-building guru who can help you build your own thriving communities online; check out her resources at NicoleAkers.com. If you’re more into health and wellness, Nicole can help there too! Find a wealth of health at WeTalkHealthy.com.

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