¿...Good Mom...?

All those months and years of waiting for being a mom, as a child and a teenager and a young single adult, I composed a portfolio.
I composed a child-rearing resume preemptive to parental mistakes.
I crafted a long list of how to mother the right way.

You see, on the days when I was a total brat (and, admittedly, they happened far too often)
I saw others with their monkey children crying,
and the mothers with their hair a-frizz and their jewelry askew,
and the messes made,
and thought,
"wow, they've got it all wrong. When I'm a mom, I'll..."

And I wish I could go back in time, and stop myself right there, and give myself a polaroid of today
and yesterday
and the day before
and shut myself up with a heck of a slice of reality pie right then and there.

I wish I could go back in time, and give myself a little shove in the direction of whatever mother or father I was observing
and tell them that they're doing a great job
and that their children love them, even on the hard days
and then I'd help clean up the milk spilled in the grocery isle,
the milk the toddler craftily opened and dumped,
a whole jugful.

But I was wrong, and I've learned
and all I can hope to do is try to be a good mom, albeit an imperfect one
amidst late night feedings and early morning comforts and all day playing
AND WHY ISN'T HE TIRED YET, I'M EXHAUSTED!
and salute and honor and love the other moms and dads
trying to be good parents
too.