I often feel somewhat imperfect as a parent. I am guilt-ridden about the things I think I should do better. 20/20 hindsight and all that. I see my faults glaring all too clearly and I see judgement in everyone’s eyes. What a stupendous waste of energy!
Last night as I lay with sleeping children all around me and on me, I had an epiphany, what alcoholics call “a moment of clarity”.
I realised that it doesn’t matter what I think, or what anyone else thinks. My children love me just the way I am.
As far as they are concerned I am perfect.
It might be time to change my moniker.