Oh Lord, it happened again… Heaven help me, I had to apologize to my kids. Again. Lord, I HATE that. I hate when that happens. I hate it because I hate losing my temper with them. Hate it when I blow it. Hate it when I’m not the perfect all-knowing, all-giving, uber-peaceful mother I want to be.
Hate it when I hurt them.
I know you’re not shocked, and yet I still hate to admit it. I occasionally screw up – like, really screw up. Occasionally blow my cool. Even, occasionally, yell and grind my teeth. At my children whom I love more than life itself.
And I hate it so much.
And then I apologize, I explain what was going on in my head, and ask their forgiveness.
And, amazing, delightful human beings that they are, they forgive me. Thank God, they forgive me.
This time I was rushing – isn’t that so often the case? You have a timetable, you have somewhere you need to be, with plans and expectations and tick-tick-tick…
I’m not perfect. And I tell you about it, because I want you to know it’s okay that you’re not perfect either. (And if you are, please, send me your magic mojo, Mamma.)
When you blow it, tell your kids what you were stressed about, tell them what you were thinking and about how you wish you had done it differently, ask their forgiveness.
Role-model Mamma. You’ll be doing more than keeping your relationship with them intact. You’ll be teaching them how to be a decent human being.
Because no matter how much I wish it, I will never be perfect. But I can be honest, I can be humble, I can apologize.
Which allows them to love me more, it feels sometimes, than I deserve.
Just like I love them.
And the world goes round.