I Don't Want My Kids to Remember Perfection—I Want Them to Remember Me

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I don’t want my kids to remember grand adventures . . . I want them to remember that I was fully present in the moment when they asked me to dig for bugs in the backyard.

I don’t want them to remember me getting them to their soccer game on time . . . I want them to remember how I supported them on the ride home.

I don’t want them to remember the gifts I got them for the holidays . . . I want them to remember the joy within them as they created family traditions.

I don’t want them to remember a mom who sent every single thing back in to school on time . . . I want them to remember the lesson I taught them about perfection, and how no one ever achieves it.

I don’t want them to remember a mom who delivered perfect entrees to the table every night . . . I want them to remember that we always cared about how their day went.

And yet in so many of these moments, I have focused on the former.

These things that society has somehow identified as benchmarks for our success as mothers . . . when in my heart, all I want is for my kids to feel my love in all of the in-between moments.

I want them to remember a human being who made mistakes and forgave herself . . . who fought to listen to and follow her own instincts in a world trying to drown that voice out . . . who fiercely believed in doing the best she could with the things she had, and loved herself no matter what.

Because after all . . . that’s what I want for them one day.

And I want them to remember a mom who showed them how to do it.

Originally published on The Thinking Branch

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Brea Schmidt

Brea Schmidt is a writer, speaker and photographer who aims to generate authentic conversation about motherhood and daily life on her blog, The Thinking Branch. Through her work, she aims to empower people to overcome their fears and insecurities and live their truth. She and her husband raise their three children in Pittsburgh, PA.

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