As I guarded my painful secret, I became increasingly certain that, in the fruition of time, I’d bear the child I prayed for daily. It was the same feeling of  inexplicable certainty that has surfaced about other distant events during times of trauma in my life--eerie feelings that appear prescient in retrospect.  

Almost five years after being told I’d probably be unable to have children, my hope was affirmed and my prayers answered. I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl with a crop of sable-colored hair. We named her Celia. After seeing my baby daughter, I vowed to become the best mother the world had ever known. I’d rise to the status of  “Super Mom,” following the course I’d super-imposed upon myself as a 24-hour-a-day, totally devoted “Super Wife--one who would do anything for her man.  

So, cruising full speed, I became a professional homemaker, establishing standards for myself of domestic perfection that would send Betty Crocker running out the back door. My family deserved the best, and I’d make certain they got nothing less. My needs could be tended later, after the children were grown and gone.  
  

My goal now is to be a better parent today than I was yesterday, a better parent tomorrow than I am today. But, if anyone is expects the editor of  Savannah Parent to be a model parent now, then I confess: “It ain’t me, babe. It ain’t me you’re looking for...”  

                                                       “Women Are Not Walking Wombs...”   
 I’ve heard lots of Mother’s Day sermons over the years. However, the one which impacted me most was a rather untraditional one delivered by Dr. Harold Bussell, a minister from Massachusetts. He begins his sermon saying that he remembers his mother always waking up on Mother’s Day feeling paranoid. She knew she’d be hearing sermon that day about the proverbial "ideal woman," and it inevitably left her feeling inadequate in the role she felt God created for her life. 

Dr. Bussell’s message contends that God doesn’t intend for women to be seen just as functional or sexual beings. “In other  words,” he states (apologizing, in advance, for using street language to emphasize his point), “women are not walking wombs. They’re not only to be seen as those who bear children or as mothers.” He explains, “I’m not demeaning the role of a wife or a woman. But women are to be seen as more, primarily in the role of developing character.”  

After discussing some of the creative ways God has used women through the ages, Dr. Bussell addresses the various cultural and religious stereotypes of what a woman "should be." He says, “When these models of the ideal woman are followed, they can tyrannize women, resulting in a great sense of self-defeat and discontentment.”  Continuing, he traces the shifts these models have taken over the years--from the Victorian matron, at the turn-of-the-century,  to the liberated woman of the ‘80’s.  “In the 70’s we had the ‘Total Woman,’ and the women who followed that course ended up being totaled within a matter of a few short years.” 

I was one of those women who tried following Marabel Morgan’s golden road to Utopian bliss. I wasn’t totally totaled, but premature burn-out eventually resulted. At that point, the course of my life took an entirely new direction. I find Dr. Bussell’s untraditional analysis of the Proverbs 31 woman comforting and affirming for me as a woman, wife, and  mother.  
  
                                                                  Parental Wisdom  
 Once we parents learn to accept and admit our limitations, it’s easier to relinquish perfectionistic tendencies which destroy our  freedom to make mistakes. We are then able to come to grips with them and get on with life. Once we are less harsh with and demanding of ourselves, we become less harsh with and demanding of our children (and others). After accepting the fact that we’ll never be perfect parents, then we grant our children the freedom to be less-than-perfect children whose limitations don’t  threaten our parental success.  

 I believe that honestly dealing with our personal weaknesses and limitations, in addition to sharing some of our inner struggles (not just our victories) with our children, establishes a healthy parenting role model. As a result, parent-child bonding becomes strengthened by a communicative relationship grounded in mutual respect, accountability, and love.  

 I’m charting my course now so that I’ll be awarded the twenty-first century’s “Perfect Great-Grandmother” award. But, if  you’re searching for a “perfect mom” to crown this Mother’s Day, “It ain’t me, Babe!”