Parenthood has a way of knocking you on your butt… over an over again.

Just when you think you have the hang of it… you realize…

You don’t.

It’s a daily exercise in humility.

One of the great things about parenthood is that you literally have people telling you how bad you are at your job on a daily basis.

Picture a performance review every.single.day… and instead of a competent professional reviewing you, you have a crazy person evaluating your performance based on the color cup you serve their apple juice in.

And instead of getting logical feedback in a private professional setting, you receive your feedback in the form of a screaming fit in public… picture someone standing up in the cart in the middle of a crowded store screaming  “YOU’RE A STUPID MOTHER!”

Oh wait, if you were at Costco last Wednesday you could have just witnessed that beautiful scene instead of imagining it.

How do you even respond to that?

I mean, can you really incorporate those “suggestions” into meaningful performance improvement?

Nope.

All you can do is pretend it isn’t happening and continue with your day, who knows the feedback might change as quickly as the weather in Texas.

One minute you might be a “Stupid Mother!” and the next you might be “the best mom ever!” You just never know what each hour is going to bring.

Before I had kids I was a great mother.

I never got frustrated, never said “because I said so!”, never mixed up sippy cups (an unpardonable sin), never called kids by their siblings’ names, and never said “screw it” and let the kids eat Goldfish crackers for dinner.

Nope, back in the day, I was a perfect mother.

I was going to bake all my own bread, spend hours each day engaging in meaningful learning activities, keep my kids far away from screens, never yell, provide my kids with logical explanations to every question, and really be their friend.

I’m sorry, I can’t even type that without laughing.

My actual parenting is so far from my original plan I can’t even fully remember the original plan.

I told two of my kids “I’m ok with not being your friend” today, they definitely had screen time, and there was a point when I got so tired of arguing with the Princess about eating something, that I let her have a bowl of pudding because at least I knew it had eggs and milk in it.

My pre-parenthood self would have been appalled.

I live each day in survival mode. We aren’t thriving, we are surviving, any thriving happens by accident. Every day is a mad dash to keep people from running in the street, eating things they shouldn’t, and getting to all their scheduled activities and appointments. Every meal is a battle of wills, every trip to the store is a highly volatile experiment, and every attempt to leave the house results in someone yelling, someone else crying, and me forgetting something.

There are days when I’m fairly certain that my kids are going to be 40 and still living in my basement (note to self, get a basement). There are still other days when I’m fairly certain one or more of them is going to spend significant time in the principal’s office for fighting, telling their teacher off, or refusing to get up and participate in whatever activity their teacher has planned.

I tell myself, that if they live to be adults and stay out of prison, I’ve done my job.

The truth is that I’m aiming a bit higher.

I’m hoping that despite my failures as a mother, they turn out to be contributing members of society.

I’m hoping that despite my near constant yelling, they learn compassion and empathy.

I’m hoping that the day comes when they learn to solve their problems with words instead of fists.

I’m hoping that the stubbornness and grit that leads to a refusal to use the bathroom  a blatant disregard for instruction, and fighting over… everything (literally everything) is the same stubbornness that keeps them safe, encourages them to stand up for themselves, and helps them become leaders in their communities.

I want to sit on the porch with Mr. Spreadsheets when we are old and grey, and reminisce about the good old days as we enjoy the three great kids we raised. I want to laugh until we cry as we watch our three strong willed children battle their own iron willed kids.

I know we have… two decades ahead of us. I want to say that I’m going to enjoy the journey, relax for the ride, and weather the storm (love cliches), but the truth is, I’m holding on for dear life. There will be a day when I look back and enjoy a meal or a conversation with my three grown children and miss them as little kids… but today is not that day.

Today we are in the thick of it, today I am accepting that parenthood is a refiner’s fire, today I am accepting that this journey is an uphill battle that I’m not entirely prepared for. Today I am accepting that this journey that seems exhausting and impossibly difficult at times, is the way I become my best self.

So today, here’s to another load of laundry, another screaming fit, another trip to baseball practice, and another day living the dream (or so to speak).