Every now and then, I’d hear people call me a “supermom.” It’s flattering and humbling, but it makes me want to laugh out loud. If they only knew…
When my firstborn, Nathan, was born, I thought I had it all put together. I read different books and attended parenting seminars. I had my own checklist, making sure everything I bought was the best for my new baby. I journalled all the “firsts”, I scrapbooked all the milestones, never missed a doctor’s check-up, took him out for afternoon walks, and read books at bedtime.
Fast forward 16 years and 3 more kids later, the house is a mess, it’s after lunch and my 3-yr Joaquin hasn’t taken a shower, Ryan is late for his basketball class, and I can’t even explain “Ibong Adarna” to my 7th grader Janina. I admit that I haven’t taken the kids for their dental prophylaxis in the last 6 months, and I’m not even sure if Joaquin’s vaccines are updated. I don’t prepare elaborate dishes for my family, there are days we just order pizza for dinner. I don’t knit or sew. We get a “notice of disconnection” from Manila Water every now and then, because of late payment. And so on and so forth. You get the picture.
I am not a supermom, if you expect a supermom to be perfect.
I am not a supermom, I am simply a mom, who wants to enjoy motherhood, without the pressure of perfectionism. Life will pass me by before I know it, my children will grow up, and I am sure I would want to retrieve their childhood years, so I just try to cherish every moment with them. I don’t want to be too tired and burdened trying to make everything perfect that I am no fun with the kids anymore. I am simply a mom who wants to be there for my children.
There are days when I wish I could cook better, or organize better, or paint better, and I’m sure my husband and kids wish that too, and admittedly, there are days when I envy moms who do, but everyday I just rely on God’s grace to bless the work of my hands, however inadequate that is, and allow me to be the mother my children need.