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Good mothers are certainly not a myth. There are plenty of them out there. I have one, know some, and I have recently been informed by several reputable sources, that I am one. I must have put it out there, into the universe, that I was in need of some validation for my efforts, and in one week, on three separate occasions, I got it. I don't recall ever cherishing a compliment so much, perhaps because these praises were sung by people who know me very well, have seen me at my worst, are brutally honest, and whom, I am sure, have scrutinized my parenting techniques. Each of their very sincere, heartfelt, and entirely unsolicited compliments appeared to come as a surprise even to them as they spoke the words.

So the consensus is that I am a good mother. I am thrilled to hear this from outside sources. I hear it often from my husband, but I think he sees it as more of a do or die situation; either assure me that I am doing a good job as often as possible, or I quit. Not that I would quit of course, but I think this is the message he reads on my very weary face when he walks in the door. It is so loud and clear that he sees right past the dishes I didn't get to, the toys strewn about the entire house, the dinner I forgot to take out of the freezer, and the whining children, whom, despite all my best efforts, have still not had all of their demands met.

But I value these outsiders' opinions so much because I know that they love and want the best for my children, and if they thought for a moment that I was falling short, they would not hesitate to tell me. I also know that I never, under any circumstances, pretend to be the perfect mother. I don't have the energy, and my children would not recognize me if I did. What people see is what my children get.

I have always wanted to be a mother, a good mother. And like any other aspiring mother, I had all the answers before my children were born. I soon learned that being a parent inevitably spoon feeds you many of your own pre-parenting words:

"I could never be a stay at home mom" turned, the moment I met my first child, into "what else could I possibly devote my time and energy to that could possibly be as challenging and fulfilling?- Nothing!" Their little faces were like a spoonful of sugar making it easy to swallow this one.

"My child will never act like that" often gets shoved down my throat by a four year old who has decided she'll try anything once, maybe even twice.

"My kids will never watch Barney" choked me with

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