Let's just look at Christmas:
I don't have an elf that sits on a shelf or whatever creative place I can think of.
I don't remember to get gifts for all the special teachers in my kids' lives.
Only half the decorations got put up this year.
Our gingerbread houses came from a kit from CVS.
We told our kids from the beginning of their ability to understand that Santa wasn't real.
I've spent nearly 0 hours in Pinterest researching cool and creative holiday traditions and activities.
My Christmas cards are still in the box (I keep handing them out to people I see knowing that means one less card to mail).
There are approximately 25 ornaments sitting under the tree because they fell off and I haven't put them back up yet.
I let my kids go caroling with our wonderful neighbors instead of going along because I was busy (but mostly because I dislike being cold).
We don't have matching Christmas outfits for church on Sunday (although we do all have Christmas socks - can I have a point for that?!)
And again - I have yet to consult Pinterest for games and party ideas...or anything Christmas, for that matter!
All you moms who can do all that, you astound and amaze me!
My poor kids will never have a mom like that.
And that's okay.
There is a part of me that wants to uphold this image to my children, especially my daughter, that I'm incredible and someone whom they should hold in awestruck wonderment. I want them to believe that I can do all things with one hand tied behind my back, all while watching them with the special set of eyes that God put in the back of my head.
But then there is the part of me that wants my kids to understand that I am not perfect, no one is perfect. And I don't expect them to be perfect either.
Because maybe, just maybe, if I humble myself enough, those kids of mine will talk to me about their failures and imperfections and short comings, because I can relate. "If Mom has struggles and cannot do it all, then maybe I don't have to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders either."
I'm okay with not being perfect in my children's eyes because hopefully through my shortcomings they're learning a valuable lesson in humility and grace.
And maybe, just maybe, they won't feel the need to freak their kids out with an elf on the shelf either. 😉