Mother-ing?

Thoughts today center around the efficacy of my mothering. How does one even begin to measure such a thing? Mothering takes years, and apparently, despite all a mother's best efforts, there is no guarantee her offspring will grow up to be loving, productive, self-sufficient adults. Hmmm, so is this hte paradox of parenthood? One of many.  This is the realm in which I feel constant defeat, empowerment, frustration, and complete love- all in the same breath.

 How on earth, then, will I ever know if what I did was, "good"? If so, will it be "good" in my eyes, or in God's eyes, or my spouse's eyes, or the children's father's eyes? Who? Who determines my ability to parent & the outcome of the results? Who is conducting this unofficial audit?

 Sigh, so, I suppose, at the very least, I am desperately grasping for the hope that my childrens' futures will be bright, full of hope, and that they can learn from the superfluous screw ups that I have undertaken in the span of my nearly thirty years on this planet. I hope, above all, that my children could find it in their hearts to forgive my imperfections, my inadequacies, and all my other "in-a's". I hope I can teach them how to love better. 

Terror grips me many days as I look in the mirror and remember the timeless mantra of leading children by example, and "actions speak louder than words".... YIPE! So, I layer on foundation and powder my face, paint my lips, and walk out the door. I'm weighted by the responsibility that I am accountable for all of my actions, words, and deeds of the day.... and care to the affect that I am teaching my chlidren every step of the way. I hope that I am able to do well. God give me strength.

(p.s. I wonder if Apple will make an app for "i hope" and " i worry" hmmmm)

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