Mothers Day? Bah! Humbug.

Have you read Great Expectations? I sometimes feel like that's the title for my life. 

I have a gorgeous family, the sweetest husband, and such an amazing life--but I have a confession. For many years, Mother's Day depressed me.

The humbug: I'd sit and ponder how I was doing as a mother. Was I failing? Did my children get enough attention? What behaviors were they displaying that spoke of need? I'd look around or read stories of parents who were doing amazing things with their children, and I'd think, why can't I seem to be like that? The day served to hammer home how I was failing.

Do you do this too? It's a slippery slope, my friend.

Because of my father's example (if you missed that post, you can catch it here), I've always felt if I'm going to accomplish something, it's going to be done
well--perfectly. (Yup, that oh-so-annoying inner perfectionist...)

Six years back as I sat in a tiny NYC apartment, frustrated by the chain-smokers upstairs and exhausted from a child who refused to sleep through the night, it hit me. We were doing the best we could with our circumstances. My children, severely demanding at the time, loved me, even if they couldn't give me enough space to stand back and see it. I was succeeding in the most important ways. I couldn't be prefect on all fronts, but I was giving it my best effort.

Through the years I've learned that much of my disatisfaction with life comes from the gap between god-like expectations, and reality. Set high expectations, do your best, then forget your expectations and find grattitude in life. I now find great joy in Mother's Day. It's a day of reflection on the good, and as my children shower me with cards, hearts, and hugs, I can't help but wonder how I ever found anything but joy from the holiday.

Here's a happy Mother's Day to all you amazing mothers, and a huge thank you to all you surrogate mothers. You are awesome sauce!