A Gift for Mom! 🤍

I was thinking the other day how I used to be a perfect mom. You know, back before my kids’ diet consisted of more than chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese. Back when the TV wasn’t a babysitter. Back when I promised myself I would follow through on discipline. Back when my kids never threw tantrums. Back when I didn’t have to avoid public situations for fear of a meltdown. Back when I had all the answers.

You know, back before I actually had kids.

I laugh at my pre-mom self now. Not only because she had no clue how much her life was about to change but also because she actually thought her kids would be better off if she was the perfect mom. It’s taken me awhile but I’ve finally learned to silence the voice of my inner perfectionist (at least most of the time) when it comes to how I’m raising my two sons. Because I believe there are so many things my kids can learn from my imperfections.

My kids may see me fail over and over (and over and over) again, but when they finally see me succeed they’ll understand perseverance.

I may lose my patience a thousand times, but I’ll say I’m sorry a thousand and one and they’ll understand forgiveness.

I may listen to my instincts and run away from something that scares me, but when they see me turn around and face that fear head on they’ll understand courage.

They’ll watch me make all kinds of mistakes, but when they hear me own up to them and do my very best to fix them they’ll understand humility.

They may hear me disagree with my husband, but they’ll also see me choose to love him every single day, despite our differences and they’ll understand commitment.

Don’t get me wrong; there are many, many things I know I won’t be able to teach my kids.

How to change the oil in a car (because hello, my friends at Valvoline can do it in 15 minutes)

How to dance (because sadly, I pretty much just look like I’m being electrocuted or something)

How to solve a linear equation (because I’m not even sure how to explain what that is, let alone solve it)

Public speaking (because just the thought makes me want to throw up)

How to draw (because that talent was somehow given to everyone in the family except me)

How to give directions (and my husband said “Amen!”)

But the things that truly matter?

If they’re true to themselves and their beliefs.

If they’re kind to others.

If they do the right thing when no one is watching.

If they know the importance of honesty.

If they work hard.

If they understand selflessness.

These are the kinds of things I refuse to let the world teach them.

It’s hard. Extremely hard. Some days (most days) I feel like a broken record no one wants to listen to anymore but I’ve also learned I’m teaching them way more with my actions than I ever could with my words. Their eyes are always watching, their ears are always listening, their mouths are always repeating, and their actions are always imitating. It’s completely humbling and completely terrifying at the same time.

But do you know what isn’t terrifying? Knowing that as their mama, I’ve already helped them understand one of the most important things they’ll ever need to know.

They understand unconditional love.

I’ve loved them through the whining, fighting, and crying no differently than I’ve loved them through the happiness, kindness, and laughter. I’ve loved them through the tantrums and meltdowns no differently than I’ve loved them through the moments of wonder and excitement. I’ve loved them through the stomach viruses and trips to the ER no differently than I’ve loved them through the days of completely perfect health. I’ve loved them through the bad days no differently than I’ve loved them through the good ones.

So they know by now that I’m here, that I’ll always be here. No matter how much they change and no matter how much the world around them changes, my presence and my love are constant. I’m pretty sure that’s a good, solid foundation for us to keep building on.

So even though “perfection” will never be a quality I’m able to offer my kids, I feel pretty good about what I do have to offer. And honestly, when it comes to that perfect mom? I’m not sure why I ever wanted to be her anyway.

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Lindsay Stauffer

Lindsay is married to the most supportive husband in the world and momma to two adorable rascals, who have turned her into a caffeine addict. She writes about marriage and motherhood on her Facebook page, Life Off The Record.

As a Medical Mom, I Measure Growth Differently

In: Kids, Motherhood
Little girl climbing outside

In most homes, the marks on the wall are a simple celebration of time passing. They are pencil lines that track how many inches a child has gained since their last birthday. But in our home, those marks represent a much deeper, more complex story. When your child lives with multiple hormone deficiencies, growth is never just “natural”—it is a carefully managed medical achievement. However, as any medical mom knows, the story doesn’t end at the top of the head. It begins deep inside, with a tiny gland that isn’t sending the right signals. Having multiple hormone deficiencies is often...

Keep Reading

Helping My Son Through Bullying Is Healing Something In Me Too

In: Kids
Family sitting on porch

Bedtime is when my kids tend to open up the most. The lights are low, the day is winding down, and their guard finally comes down with it. One night, my son told me he had been having a really hard time at school. Some boys had been so relentless that he left the cafeteria before finishing his breakfast, deciding it was better to go hungry than face more teasing. Because he’s such a kind boy with a big heart for others, seeing him face that kind of cruelty made my heart ache even more. It wasn’t the first time...

Keep Reading

Robotics Kids Are Building More than You Can See

In: Kids
Robotics kid watching competition

These robotics kids are going to shape our future. I think this every time I watch an elementary, middle school, or high school competition. My thoughts go back many years to when my middle child, who was six at the time, went with my husband to the high school robotics shop. They were only stopping in briefly to pick up some engineering kits, but my child quickly became captivated by what the “big kids” were doing. He stood quietly watching until one student walked over and asked if he would like to see what they were working on. My son,...

Keep Reading

Foster Care Kids Are Worth Fighting for

In: Kids
Hand holding young child's hand

Sometimes foster care looks like bringing a child from a hard place into your home. Sometimes it looks like sitting at a ball field with a former foster love’s mom and being her village. He’s the one who has brought me to my knees more times than my own children. He’s the one I lie awake at night thinking about. He’s the one I beg the father to protect. He’s the one who makes me want to get in the trenches over and over again. It’s our Bubba. So much of the story is not mine to tell, but the...

Keep Reading

We Aren’t Holding Her Back—We’re Giving Her More Time

In: Kids
Child writing on preschool paper

When we decided to give our preschooler another year before kindergarten, I thought the hardest part would be explaining it to other people. I was wrong. The hardest part was the afternoon her teacher asked to talk. In that split second in the pick-up line, my heart sank. I assumed the worst. I braced myself for a conversation about behavior, about something we had somehow missed, about whether her strong personality was causing problems. Instead, it became the moment that confirmed what we already knew. We were not holding her back. We were giving her time. Our daughter is bright....

Keep Reading

A Life Lived Differently Is Not a Life Less Lived

In: Kids
Little boy running in field

My life changed on that beautiful autumn day. The thing is, nothing really happened. Not really. My life kind of went on as usual. A fly on the wall might even say it was a great day. I brought my 3-year-old son to an animal farm for a Halloween event. He was quirky as usual and a bit ornery that day. Aloof. “Come feed the baby animals,” I pleaded. No, thank you. Crowds of excited children? Absolutely not. Buckets of candy? You can keep them. My heart ached watching my beautiful, blonde-haired boy wander into a field alone, away from...

Keep Reading

Enjoy the Ride, Kid

In: Kids
Two people running up from the water at the beach

Last night I watched an episode of Shrinking. If you haven’t jumped into the series yet, it’s one of those that hits the heart hard- at least for me. The episode centered on the birth of a baby, while one of the characters grappled with the closing years of life. Spoiler alert: as the elder of the group cradled this new life in his arms, bridging generations across the hospital room, the moment of realization of how fast life goes hit like a ton of bricks. “Enjoy the ride, kid.” The final words of this episode are sitting with me,...

Keep Reading

Mommy, Will You Play With Me?

In: Kids, Motherhood
Boy sitting in middle of toys smiling

With four kids at three different schools, our days are full. Between sports practices, music lessons, clubs, rehearsals, games, meets, and playdates, it feels like we’re constantly heading somewhere. I love that my children are involved in activities, but occasionally, it’s nice to have some downtime. When I get a text or email that a practice has been canceled, it’s usually a huge relief. Last week, after-school sports were cancelled due to heavy rain. When I picked up my youngest son from school, I told him we’d be going straight home for the rest of the afternoon. He looked surprised....

Keep Reading

Could We Take a Page from the ’80s and Stop Overparenting?

In: Kids, Motherhood

I have a confession: Yesterday I let my 11-year-old play with fire. Like literally. We live in the country, there is still wet snow on the ground, and he’s done it with his dad at least 20 times. But yesterday was the fifth consecutive day of no school, and probably the twentieth consecutive day of him asking to have a small fire without dad. Part of me did it out of laziness. Part of me did it out of selfishness. And part of me did it out of nostalgia. Here’s the thing—when I was 11, I was already babysitting (like...

Keep Reading

A Big Brother Is His Little Sister’s First Friend

In: Kids
Big brother and little sister smiling at each other

He doesn’t remember the day she came home.But she has never known a world without him. From the beginning, he was there first. The first to reach for her hand. The first to explain the rules. The first to decide what was fair and what absolutely was not. He didn’t know he was being assigned a role. He just stepped into it. Big brother. She followed him everywhere. Into rooms she technically wasn’t invited into. Into games she didn’t fully understand. Into stories she insisted on hearing again and again. She wanted to do what he did, say what he...

Keep Reading