Forget mom guilt - I'm normalizing imperfection, one parenting mistake at a time.

Longgggg story short, we pack a popsicle for after dance class. We have a sordid history with after school activities and rewards have often been part of the equation in one way or another. I bought a PackIt freezable snack bag and we landed on a popsicle being a solid reward for big effort at dance class.

Anyway.

I remembered that popsicle after every single dance class for four months straight. Until I didn’t. I forgot the popsicle last week, and there was hell to pay.

Well, hell in the form of a heart-wrenching, exhausted, sad cry. And it felt terrible so, naturally, what followed was an enormous amount of mom guilt. The *one thing* she looks forward to, the special treat to reward her hard work at dance class, and it was entirely her mother’s fault we didn’t have it.

That mom guilt is a tricky beast. Mom guilt takes reality and twists and turns it until it’s unrecognizable and suddenly, it was no longer about the popsicle. Instead, it was about blame and shame. How could I forget the thing she looks forward to the most? How distracted could I possibly be? She’s so disappointed and this was preventable. Good moms don’t forget the popsicle!!

But this time, I tried a new tactic. I tried normalizing my mistake.

I said, “I’m so sorry I forgot your popsicle. Mama had a lot on her mind - I was thinking about dinner, about bedtime, and about chores I need to do after bedtime! And I forgot. We all make mistakes, and mama is definitely not perfect. We all learn, and try to do better. I’ll remember next time!”

This was in response to my mom guilt. As much as I was talking to my daughter, I was mostly talking to myself. This normalization of mistakes allowed me to introduce grace and empathy for myself and my imperfections. I started Supermom Dropout Club for a reason, after all. And I need a whole lot more grace in my life.

And a secondary benefit? A safe way to practice coping with disappointment, and modeling for my daughter that perfection is not and will never be the goal.

My daughter needs women in her life that make mistakes. Women that aren’t perfect and don’t want to be. She needs to see women that adapt to what life throws at them, and flex to hurdles that pop up along the way. And she needs to see that our imperfections absolutely do not impact who we are as people. Imperfection is not a moral failing.