The Unconventional Mom

Okay, I will admit it. I am not, what some would call a “normal” mother. Whew! It feels good to get that out. I am not exactly sure what it means to be a normal mother, but I do know that I do not have the patience of June Cleaver or the togetherness of Claire Huxstable. My house is not spotless like my Aunt Jewell’s and at any given time you may get up from my sofa to find a Fruit Loop stuck to the leg of your pants. I do not have witty comebacks and moral monologues on standby for just the right moment. Sometimes I don’t know what to say when my son asks me a particularly thought provoking question so I change the subject or turn on the radio or apologize once again for his father’s perpetual absence. Lean in close when you read this…sometimes, I really don’t know what the hell I’m doing!!

It is normal I think to feel inadequate at times. Everyone has standards of what the perfect mother should be and to some degree, we all fall short and feel guilty that some thing, somewhere is not getting done right or on time.

My finicky son has recently decided that he doesn’t like breakfast food, of any kind really except for Fruit Loops—dry. I freak out about the lack of nutrition and fortitude in such a breakfast so I feed him what he will eat, chicken sandwiches, chicken fingers and tater tots (which is kind of like a hash brown, right?), and once even a hot dog. I know it’s appalling, but a full stomach before school is all I’m after and if it takes something unconventional then so be it.

Don’t get me wrong, I have my sticklers, clothes have to be clean and pressed, schoolwork must be neat, adults are to be respected (Mr. Jack or Ms. Kelly), and we’re working on proper table manners. Try as I might, I am not as organized as I’d like to be and I can’t always serve on a PTA committee. But I do the best I can and right now I suppose that’s all I can do.