What Kind of Mother are You, Anyway?

I recently read something designed to help moms determine what mom category they fell into. I don't recall the specifics, probably because I lost interest somewhere around line 2, but we've all heard enough about mom "types" to know what some of the categories are. Are you a crunchy mom, who enrolls your co-sleeping, still nursing, organically fed two-year-old in yoga? Or an over-achieving mom, who puts your two-month-old in music classes, hoping to stimulate their brain cells at this crucial point in their development, thus virtually guaranteeing a future admissions letter from Harvard? Or maybe you're a soccer mom, who puts your eighteen-month-old in a tiny tot soccer league in hopes that it will help them develop into superior athletes by age six.

Oh, none of those describe you? Perhaps you're a homeschooling religious mom, who plans on having as many children as God blesses you with, all of whom will wear hand made clothing and know how to make and/or kill dinner for your family of fifteen by the time they're seven. Or a free range mom, who figures if you give a kid ten or twenty acres to explore, they don't need much guidance from you at all.

If you asked me what category I fit into, I don't think I could tell you. In fact, since I'm not sure slacker mom is an actual category, I'm thinking there may not be a category for me at all. But if you ask me what kind of mom I am, I can tell you this:

I'm the kind of mom who prayed for my children long before I had them, but who prays for them now way more than I ever did then. I'm the kind who nursed them all for nine months to a year, because it was good for them, but also because it allowed me to sit on the couch for half an hour at a time, several times a day, and do nothing but stare at their sweet baby face. And maybe watch TV. I sometimes let them sleep with us, not because attachment parenting says I should, but because it's often the only way any of us are going to get any sleep. I'm also the kind of mom who gets really grumpy if I don't have enough sleep. Or coffee. Or wine.

 I'm the kind of mom who usually gives them organic milk, but not organic anything else. I give them organic milk because it's healthy, and because I've heard that non-organic milk can possibly lead to early puberty in girls. I am not taking any chances on this. I will gladly pay the price of organic milk now if it saves me a couple years of mood swings and pre-adolescent drama later. I'm also the kind of mom who sometimes lets them eat at McDonald's, and figures that frequently serving spinach and broccoli at dinner will cancel this out. I'm the kind of mom who makes them play outside, because it's good for them, and because sometimes they just need to be outside. While I am inside.

In spite of that, I'm the kind of mom who hopes I will never get tired of reading to my kids, or playing outside with them, or going for walks with them. But I'm also the kind who feels like my head will explode if they don't leave me alone while I'm trying to do the laundry or the dishes. I sometimes let them watch too much TV, so I can do the laundry or the dishes. Or drink a cup of coffee in peace.

I'm the kind who somehow never manages to get all the laundry put away, or all the socks matched, or all the toys stacked neatly in the playroom. Fortunately, I'm also the kind who often just does not care that all the laundry isn't put away, or that the socks aren't matched, or that the toys aren't neatly stacked. But I'm also the kind who, sometimes, is really bothered that I can't manage to do these things.

I'm the kind who often walks my daughter to the bus stop wearing sweats and with wet hair. I don't usually doesn't care that I have wet hair and am wearing sweats. But I do care if I forget my coffee. I'm the kind who makes my daughter do her homework, and if it's sloppy, I make her do it again, better. Because I know she can.

I'm the kind of mom who has put my three-year-old in time out 2,880 times, because it's important to have well behaved children--or at least try to--but also because sometimes I really just don't know what else to do. I'm also the kind of mom who occasionally yells at my kids. Sometimes I feel bad about this. Most of the time, I don't. I'm the kind of mom who sneaks into their rooms at night to watch them sleep, and I'm also the kind who locks myself in the bathroom at times for a moment or two of silence.

 I'm the kind of mom who takes a million pictures of all of my children, but especially my twenty-month-old, because he is changing so fast. I'm also the kind who won't get those pictures in albums until 2021. I'm the kind who believes that laughter is the best medicine. And if that doesn't work, try chocolate. Or, occasionally, tequila. Cause I'm that kind of mom, too.

I'm the kind who is usually pretty mild mannered, unless you hurt my kids. Then you will likely be amazed at the transformation that takes place before your very eyes, as I become the kind of mom you wish you'd never met.

I'm the kind of mom who still finds it incredibly difficult to get anywhere on time with three kids--or without three kids, for that matter. I'm the kind who alternates between thinking "I really need to work on this" and, "Screw it, the world will survive if we're 5 minutes late", because I've decided that my sanity, in those moments, is more important. I'm the kind who sometimes appears to have it somewhat together, and sometimes appears to have it all falling apart. Rarely am I the kind who appears to have it all together. Fortunately, I'm also the kind who won't fall to pieces if it does all fall apart. Cause I know I'm the kind who can put it back together. And so are you.

I'm the kind of mom who might do some things better than you can, but who knows that you can likely do more things better than I can. I'm working on not caring so much about which of us can do things better. I'm the kind who makes sure my kids' socks match when its gym day, and they may have to take off their shoes. But if it's not gym day, all bets are off. I'm the kind of mom who thinks that, in a world where so many mothers are just trying to feed, house, and care for their children, it probably doesn't matter all that much if my child's socks don't match.

I'm the  kind of mom who is not afraid to say that my children are being challenging, exhausting, exasperating, or difficult. I'm also the kind who tries not to brag too much about the fact that they are adorable, talented, brilliant, and amazing. I try not to do that, because I know its obnoxious. Unless you just happen to slip it into your blog.

Those categories of moms? I'm none of those. And yet, to some extent, I'm all of those. I'm the kind of mom who gets irritated that we feel a need to put moms into categories instead of just accepting each other as we are. The kind who thinks that if you teach your children to be loving, kind, and responsible, it probably doesn't matter all that much what other kind of mom you are.

I'm the kind of mom who wants to pull my hair out more often than I ever imagined possible, but who has realized that I usually don't have to, since given enough stress, it just falls out on its own. I'm the kind who doesn't love every moment of every day, but who finds moments of every day to love. I am the kind who loves my children more than life itself. I'm probably alot like you in that respect.

I'm the kind who, like most other mothers in the world, just does the best that I can. And although I sometimes wish that my best was better in some way, I'm the kind of mother who knows that, ultimately, my best is good enough.
And so is yours.