That Mom

Though I try really, really hard not to be, I’ve realized I’m that mom.

I’m that mom who let her son wear red pants and a green John Deere shirt to school, even though it didn’t match, because that’s what he wanted to wear. And I didn’t want to fight the battle. 

I’m that mom who holds up the drop off line at my son’s school. I only get to drop him at “big school” once a week and he wants to get dropped off like the other kids. But our car door is heavy, he has to climb over his brother, and well he is kinda slow and clumsy so we hold up the line. Sorry!!! 

I’m that mom who sent her son to school in a shirt that is 2-3 sizes too big with pants that are at least 3 inches too short. He looks like we can’t afford clothes…as long as you don’t look at the brand new Nike tennis shoes he’s wearing. 

I’m that mom that forgot to send valentines to school. 

I’m that mom whose son has been saying his shoes hurt his feet. I checked them and thought they were fine. Daddy checked them. Nope….way too small. Oops! 

But you know what else.

I’m that mom who loves her kids dearly and would do anything for them, almost to a fault. 

I’m that mom who is learning that it doesn’t have to perfect all of the time. 

I’m that mom who has figured out I can’t do it all no matter how hard I try. 

And I’m that mom who is becoming very ok with being that mom. 

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