When one of my friends moans, "I'm a terrible mom," I am so full of comforting blah, blah, blahs.
I tell them that they are wonderful mothers (and they are). I tell them the proof is in the pudding and that they have raised spectacular children (which they have). I point out that their plates are overflowing and that no one expects them to be perfect all of the time (except them, of course).
And then I share the epiphany that I believe should clear up all their anxiety (ha!). "If God needed children to be raised by perfect people," I say with certainty, "then he wouldn't be putting them in families."
I need someone to call and give me the lecture. Today I failed Ellie. She is not an easy kid, this daughter of mine. Her cup is half empty and her wants runneth over. But this morning she needed me to be loving, and I was impatient and hard. What I want to know is, can you really make it up to your child when you let them down?
She's off at school now. Much hugging and snuggleing shall ensue on her homecoming.