Before having kids, I always pictured mine would be the ones who would never do wrong. The ones who would stand right beside me in a line, not get upset when I said no, never throw a tantrum (most definitely not in public), etc. You get the picture.
Becoming a mom of two young boys changed my perfect picture very fast.
Just the other day we were getting ready to attend a funeral for a family member and as I was packing the car, my boys were inside fighting, which resulted in a scratched-up face and black eye, right before the funeral.
As we are driving, I couldn’t help but think about what people would say and think—not only about my son’s freshly scratched face, but about me and my parenting style. Would they picture my kids as the bad ones? The ones who do not listen and are constantly fighting? And what would they think of me? How could I possibly let them get into a fight at such a time? Thoughts like these consumed my mind for the almost five-hour drive.
At the funeral, people did comment, “Wow, I hear your youngest is pretty ornery,” and, “Oh, you poor thing,” to my older son with the scratches. I stood there feeling helpless, not knowing how to respond but trying to smile as I held back tears. It made me focus more on the opinions and words of others than what we were really there for, which was to grieve the loss of our loved one. I felt broken inside.
I love my boys with my whole heart. They are everything I ever wanted, my life and my world. The last thing I ever want is for someone to look at them and think, Wow, those kids must be bad, because I know deep down they are not bad kids. These two precious kids are the kindest boys and I have the privilege of raising them. They know to remove their hats when it’s time to pray, play hours and hours of carpet farming together, fill my counter with freshly-picked flowers all spring and summer long, say please and thank you almost every time they need something, give the best hugs at just the right time and set a daily example to me of how I should live my life.
Are my kids perfect? No, not at all (I think the scratched-up face proves that), but neither am I, nor anyone else on this planet. Everyone has bad days, but we all have good days too. If I can choose to overlook the bad and focus on the good, then no I am not raising “bad” kids—I’m raising kids who struggle but are learning every day from their mistakes. My job as their mom is to be their guide and to let them know that when you mess up I still love you—and we will try to do better next time. And if not next time, then the time after that or the time after that until we get it right. I will not let the mistakes they make today as children define who they are to become as adults.
Some days are a real struggle, but do I regret how I am raising them? Absolutely not. Their happiness, smiles, warm hugs, and hearts prove I am not raising bad kids, I’m raising kids who are just like you and me—and I’m loving every minute of it.
by Brittany Moore 
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by Megan Kewaza 
