1. Being supermom
What a bullshitty myth that whole deal is. I’ve come to the conclusion that if you can raise spunky, sassy teenagers and emerge from those years not a raging alcoholic or not having shipped them to military school, you automatically qualify as supermom.
I do my best, and some days that’s better than others. I lose my temper. I have nights where popcorn qualifies as dinner. I’ll say ‘fuck homework’ if the assignment looks like a ridiculous waste of time. If at the end of the day my kids know that momma has their back and that they are secure knowing that the are loved deeply and fully, that’s good enough for me.