perceptions

As we drove into the parking lot of the "girly" restaurant, I prayed that this meal would be somewhat eventful and enjoyable. As we opened the door to enter, I prayed one last time, but I was certain the hair on the backs of the necks of those already dining stood straight up as my two boys stormed in.

We did as we always do: We told Jack to sit down at the first available seat, Jason chose the first thing on the menu because he had no other choice, and then he rushed to lasso Max into a chair before he could destroy something that would cost us! I stood in line, and for a moment, pretended to be one of those more civilized women that were dining near us.

Of course, that was just a dream. Shortly after I ordered and had everyone's drink in hand, I approached the loudest table in the restaurant... the one where MY boys sat! :) It was a rather calm dinner... for the first five seconds... and then Max spilled his drink. So I gathered 3,000 napkins, got down on my knees, and cleaned the floor. Shortly after that, Max had to tee-tee, so Jason took him to the bathroom. Then our food came. The boys ate... QUICKLY... and then they were ready to go. So as always I swallowed most of my lunch whole in an effort to get out of there before they lost ALL control and we really made a scene.

And just when I was almost finished, SHE walked in. You know her. You don't know her name, but you've seen her out in public. The door seemed to radiate with gold when she walked in with her sweet little boy and girl. They were dressed to the nines... I was sure the little girl's underwear were probably monogrammed since every other part of her outfit was. She showed them to their table, where they sat ALONE while she ordered. She looked over at them a few times while she was ordering, and she gave them the "look." You know... like I'll kill you if you don't sit up straight, smile, and act perfect, and they responded just as expected. It's the same look I give my children, and then they laugh and carry own with exactly whatever they were doing!

After she ordered, she returned to the table. The little boy happened to be wearing the same shirt as Jack, and he tried to make conversation about it with us, but she quickly asked him to turn around and leave us alone, because we "were eating." We were secretly longing for the little boy to continue to his conversation just so that he could entertain Jack and keep him out of trouble.

Just a few seconds later, she was spotted by one of her long-lost friends that it seemed she had not seen in quite a while. They chatted briefly, and then their food arrived, and it was time to say the blessing! She introduced the upcoming prayer to her "friend," gave the children a pep-talk about doing their best, and then it began. They sang the most beautiful prayer together. I'm sure it was in three-part harmony. I forced my mouth closed as they said, "Amen." They ate the remainder of their meal, using perfect etiquette and manners.

It wasn't long before we were rushing out the door with two little boys that had long overstayed their welcome. As we exited, it was like watching two criminals escape from jail. Shear joy overcame their faces as they were out of their seats and free to be as loud as they wanted!

But on the ride home, I couldn't help but think about the mother that was beside me. At one point, Jason jokingly said, "Why don't our kids sit there as nicely as those kids?" and for a moment I wondered the same thing. She seemed to have it all together. Her children were perfect... or at least it seemed. A part of me was jealous of what I had seen...I renamed her MOTHER PERFECTION because she genuinely seemed to have it ALL together! But then I looked in the back seat at my two boys and smiled.

I thought to myself: I wonder what people think of us when we are out? Do they see a terrible mess, do they see a mother who longs for perfection yet finds herself a few strands short every day, or do they graciously smile and say a prayer for us as we pass? All three are appropriate reactions! But as I thought back to the mother in the restaurant, I had to wonder if she was as perfect as she seemed. She couldn't be... none of us are, right? I'm sure her children misbehave occasionally, surely they've thrown at least one fit, and I feel like they might have even been outright defiant at some point in time.

With all of that said, my encounter with MOTHER PERFECTION convicted me about my blog and the perception I might leave, so I wanted you to know my motives behind it.

First, I write this for an audience of three: Jason, Jack and Max. As I researched blogging, I was fascinated with the possibility of leaving a legacy for my children to look back on. And as I attempt to find something to write about, I am drawn to our happiest times! It's not that I don't want my children to know we STRUGGLED and FUMBLED our way through parenthood many times along the way, but by writing about the good times, I want them to know that that is what we focused on... and that our focus on good things brought us through the bad things!

But to the other three people that might read this, please don't be deceived! We did not fall out of Pottery Barn. In fact, one of my biggest goals in life is to have "good" bread and milk in the house, and I cannot seem to do it. This week, I was guilty of serving my child a hotdog bun with butter and jelly on it, in lieu of toast, and............... I'm ashamed to write this, but I added water to half-and-half to pour over their cereal, in lieu of milk! You all just gasped, didn't you?

So with that said, next time, you read my blog, I hope that you might find something helpful or inspiring, but please don't be fooled by all that you read. We are just like every other family. Our life is not a show, and we are not waiting for the applause of the world every time we perform. We are who we are, and trust me... it's a long way from MOTHER PERFECTION!