I don't take deep breaths.

I don't just "not react."

I don't keep my chakras aligned.

(I don't even know what those things are.)

I don't meditate or stay calm in any sense.

I don't watch my tone.

I don't exercise patience.

I don't think about what I'm gonna say before I say it, and I don't always say the right thing.

I'm not Gandhi.

I'm not Mother Theresa.

I'm not Oprah.

I'm not Superwoman.

I'm not any version of a model human or parent.

But I'm the human and parent I am,

and she,

she's enough.

Fault-bearing for damn sure, but plenty enough for my kids because I'm

trying,

ultimately loving,

and physically present,

day after day after very long day.

Raising kids isn't about getting every minute and interaction right.

In fact, if I did, I'd think that a detriment to my children, who would never get the chance to witness a person struggling

with their

purpose,

patience,

and/or ability to stay emotionally available and connected.

I'm not raising robots, and I'm not one myself.

I'm bringing up mortals;

real,

honest,

authenticity-dawning,

beautifully blemished,

fully operational human beings

and, dang it,

it takes one to raise one (or, in my case, three).

So, I'm always shining the spotlight on my shortcomings because I believe that I can't remedy them if I'm not aware of or willing to acknowledge them.

I also want my kids to accept, feel comfortable with, and desire to improve upon theirs.

Monkey see monkey do, right?

So do right by your little monkeys and see yourself for who you are...

flawed, yes, but also perfectly fit to be their mama and run your little zoo.