Cold Cereal – It’s What’s For Dinner

“Which kind is it tonight?”

My nine-year-old son is sitting at our kitchen table, holding up his empty bowl.

“Sugar-Frosted Toasty-Ohs!” I read from the oversized plastic bag. I heap them into the bowl and pour the milk.

A stray Toasty-Oh! leaps out of the bowl and onto the placemat. He pops it in his mouth and chews thoughtfully.

“Mom, I want to talk to you about dinner.”

Uh, oh. Here it comes.

“Well,” he exhales. “I was talking to Trevor today. Do you know his mom makes him grilled steak, potatoes and whole wheat rolls she bakes from scratch? He eats like that every night.”

“That’s nice,” I murmur. “But we’re still having cereal.”

He stares at me. I stare back.

“Okay,” he says. (Pause.) “But can I at least have some orange juice with this?”

It's at that moment that I realize my son has been exposed to something so sinister, so outrageous…that my own maternal instincts and abilities cannot shield him.

It’s…(queue sound of woman shrieking here, please)…PERFECT MOM.

Everyone knows at least one. With glossy hair and skinny jeans, she tends to her charming, well-behaved children, serving them nutritious meals in her sparkling clean home. She is also deliriously happy to launder her children’s clothes.

My guess is that PERFECT MOM’S smile would quickly fade if she came to my house.

I have crumbs strewn across my floor that even my dog won’t eat. A basket of laundry is piled to the ceiling. And, the healthiest item in my cabinet is JELL-O. (I’ve heard it has fruit juice or something in it that tastes like strawberries.)

Yet, I have learned a lot in my nine years of motherhood. During the first few years, I constantly questioned my choices as a mother. I compared myself to others and always seemed to come up short.

I finally made the decision to stop judging myself, and concentrate on the person I was becoming as a mom…not on the mom I wanted to become.

You may question some of your actions and decisions when it comes to your children. I know I have. But I also believe that in that moment, you were being the best parent you knew how to be.

This includes serving dinner with less than two major food groups.

So, forget about June Cleaver, Carol Brady or PERFECT MOM down the street. Be a first rate version of the mom you know how to be, rather than a second rate version of someone else.

And, if that doesn’t work, you’re invited to come over to my house for a helping of Sugar-Frosted Toasty-Ohs!