I woke up this morning to the sound of my son’s chattering in the other bedroom. Even in my drowsy state, I couldn’t help but smile. How did this happen? When did I transition from a savvy, college student to a full-time wife and mother? As a child I had huge aspirations. I wanted to be an Olympic ice skater (I have never owned a pair of skates). I wanted to be a concert pianist (I can’t memorize music to save my life). I was going to write the great American novel (I’ve been on chapter four for two years now). I was going to have washboard abs that everyone would envy (My abs are more suited for taking a nap than for washing clothes).
Looking back, I realize now that my dreams were not realistic. I mean, come on, how many author/skating pianists with killer abs do you know? My new goal and the most challenging yet: be the best mother I can be. I didn’t say a “perfect mother” or “mother of the year” or “Mrs. Brady.” I would only be setting myself up for disappointment and frustration. I just want to do my imperfect best because that’s what my son deserves, at least that’s what I heard in his soft, infant coos this morning.
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