24 weeks (pic at 23 wk)

Dear Baby Boy Blue.....

It was nice to see you last week. Your presence is just starting to get noticeable...just in time for completing a baby registry. (Registry at Toys R Us and Walmart in case anyone wants to buy the baby boy fun stuff)

Oh, but this week I have decided to offer up some possibly controversial feelings that every good parent maybe sometimes feels. Feel free to sit back and listen or better yet maybe plug your ears because we don't want you to know that we aren't perfect. Unfortunately, every good parent questions their actions at some point. But, guess what....that is OK and I felt like I needed to share this with your mommy.

It is very imperative to remember that parenting isn't a noun, but a verb ---- an ongoing process instead of an accomplishment. No matter how many years you put into the job, the learning curve is, well, fairly flat.

When exactly did they stop putting toys in cereal boxes?

When I was little, I remember wandering the cereal aisle (which surely is as Amercian a phenomenon as fireworks on the Fourth of July) and picking my breakfast food based on what the reward was: a frisbee with the Trix rabbit's face emblazoned on the front. Holographic stickers with the Toucan for Fruit Loops. A mystery decoder wheel. I could suffer through Raisin Bran for a month if it meant I got a magic ring at the end.

I can't admit this out loud. In the first place, we are expected to be supermoms these days, instead of admitting that we have flaws. It is tempting to believe that all mothers wake up feeling fresh every morning, never raise their voices, only cook with organic food, and are equally at ease with the CEO and the PTA.

Here's a secret: Those mothers don't exist. Most of us...even if we'd never confess...are suffering through the Raisin Bran in the hopes of a glimpse of that magic ring.

I look very good on paper. I have a family, a good job.... In real life, I have to pick glue out of the carpet, rarely remember to defrost for dinner, and plan to have BECAUSE I SAID SO engraved on my tombstone.

Real mothers wonder why experts who write for Parents and Good Housekeeping...and any parenting articles...seem to have their acts together all the time when they themselves can barely keep their heads above the stormy seas of parenthood.

Real mothers don't just listen with humble embarrassment to the elderly lady who offers unsolicited advise in the checkout line when a child is throwing a tantrum. We take the child, dump him in the lady's cart, and say, "Great. Maybe YOU can do a better job."

Real mothers know that it's OK to eat cold pizza or the two leftover cookies for breakfast.

Real mothers admit it is easier to fail at this job than to succeed.

If parenting is the box of Raisin Bran, then real mothers know the ratio of flakes to fun is severely imbalanced. For every moment that your child confided in you, or tells you he loves you, or does something unprompted to protect his cousin or friend that you happen to witness, there are many more moments of chaos, error, and self-doubt.

Real mothers may not speak the heresy, but they sometimes may secretly wish they'd chosen something for breakfast other than this endless cereal.

Real mothers worry that other mothers will find that magic ring, whereas they'll be looking and looking for ages.

Rest easy, real mother. The very fact that you worry about being a good mommy means that that you already ARE one.

The love and bond you share with your child is reward enough for the 24 hour a day, 365 day a year job that we occupy. But, you know what? Sometimes it is just nice to know that you are not the only one that struggles through a day....a week....or a month. Menial or not....it happens!!

Regardless of how bad one day is we wouldn't trade anything for that small smile and giggle that we love so much.

Just some thoughts.....

Until next time..................