I’d say Jill Savage wrote “No More Perfect Moms” just for me, but as part of the book’s launch team and Holley Gerth‘s God-sized Dream Team, I’ve learned I’m not alone in both craving perfection and wanting to rid my life of perfection. It’s in this spirit of community I’ve invited fellow mommas to share their imperfect lives this week.
Also this week you can have a “mom university” delivered right to your computer when you buy Jill Savage’s “No More Perfect Moms.” Buy the book and receive FREE resources worth more than $100. This works even if you buy the Kindle version. Here is the list of what you’ll get when you email your receipt to NoMorePerfectMoms@moody.edu.
Let’s welcome Emily Simmons here today. She’s part of the God-sized Dream Team with me and I’ve enjoyed the grace and real-life moments she shares on her blog.
It’s been a big, hairy crabbypants day. I haven’t showered and I am covered in kid snot and bits of food. My hair is an unbelievable wreck (and has been for the past few months … is it possible to have a bad hair year?). Mountains of laundry stand piled in the living room. The kitchen is full of dirty dishes and crumbs. The bathrooms need to be scrubbed. The floor desperately needs a vacuum. I haven’t watched anything but Transformers, Power Rangers and iCarly all week.
I have worked full-time outside of the home, but being a stay-at-home mom is the most challenging job I’ve ever had.
When I was pregnant with my first child, my head was filled with shiny dreams of heartwarming moments, organized closets, tidy rooms and impeccably clean floors. On top of all that, we’d eat healthy delicious home-cooked meals each evening around our cozy table. I’d also find time to stay fit and indulge in my hobbies and wear something besides yoga pants.
How long have I chased those dreams of perfect?
Perfection is a myth, a fog that disorients and suffocates the well-meaning among us as we chase fleeting, changing images that dissolve into mist.
At the end of that long, grimy day as I cleaned up bowls of spaghetti and meatballs, a marinara-covered child hugged my leg. “I love that sketti, Mom! Thank you for makin’ yummy sketti for me.”
Grace.
Like a sweet rain, washing away the all the dirty residue of a long, exhausting day.
Children don’t ask for perfect moms. They don’t dream of impeccably clean floors or organized closets. Children need moms who are present and loving. Gentle touches to soothe boo-boos and warm arms to comfort fears. Soft words to heal a hurting heart and laughter to wash away worries.
So, sweet imperfect mama, stop chasing those misty illusions of perfect. That’s not the mama your children need.
Your children just need you. All of you.
Bad hair and dirty floors and yoga pants and kid snot and all.
Emily Simmons is a mother of two children and wife to a youth director living in Tampa, FL. She is addicted to true crime shows, Little Debbies and whales. She blogs about her crazy funny family and life at Emily Says. You can also follow her on Twitter and like Emily Says on Facebook.
Disclaimer: Compensated affiliate link used, but most of you know by now that embracing imperfection is the theme of my year and “No More Perfect Moms” has been a huge part of that. Want more? Subscribe to get “Insights” in your inbox. Or follow me on Twitter.
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