Alison is one of the most supportive bloggers you will ever “meet”. When my daughter was diagnosed with Celiac Disease and we became a Gluten Free household, she would tweet links to recipes for me. Just out of the blue. It was(is) so very thoughtful of her.

She’s also one of the busiest bloggers. She lives across the world in Malaysia, and still manages to be the first commenter on So. Many. Blogs. I don’t know how she does it, but I appreciate it so much that she always has a kind word to say.

Alison co-hosts one of my favorite link-ups (besides #iPPP, of course), Memories Captured. (She and Galit inspire me to write some of my very best stuff for them every month)

Oh, and have I mentioned that she’s the mother of the most gorgeous toddler and infant sons? No? I’ve got the evidence at the end of the post here.

Thank you so much, Alison, for taking the time to come to my place and grace us with your words.

You know how we joke about never wearing anything else but yoga pants?

How we admit with a smidgen of embarrassment that yes, some days we feed our children fish sticks or Cheerios for dinner because God-almighty-I-am-not-cooking-another-meal-no-one-eats?

How we marvel at mothers who can craft the hell out of cardboard, glitter and a hot glue gun, and declare how craft-challenged we are?

How we laugh a little too loudly at the messes in our homes because we’re just a little sick of cleaning Legos off the floor and wiping spills from the couch?

Mothers. We are a self-deprecating lot.

We laugh at our perceived failures, tell each other it’s okay, that a messy house and a sticky floor means a happy family. It means we’re spending time with our kids, not cleaning the toilets.

We say it’s okay to not brush our hair, change that stained tee shirt (because why, the baby will just puke on it again), not wear makeup and that even when we’re a hot mess, we’re okay with our looks, our bodies.

I’ve been guilty of all this.

All this, it’s okay, my kids are healthy and happy. We say, I am confident in my own looks and body, I don’t need a nice outfit, make up or shoes to make me feel that way. 

We tell ourselves to lower expectations. We tell others to lower their expectations of us. We are only human! We can only do so much!

I’m here to tell you I’m raising expectations. I’m setting the bar higher.

Of myself. For myself.

I want to be the kind of mother who does make an effort to clean the house because I want my kids to play in a clean environment.

I want to be the kind of mother who cooks good meals because I want my children to eat well.

I want to be the kind of mother who bakes cupcakes, who makes her own bread, who yes, helps her children with craft. I don’t have to love it, but damn, I’ll try.

I want to be the kind of mother who makes an effort to take a shower every day, put on clean clothes and at least look pulled together. I know I feel better when I do.

I want to be the kind of mother who practices patience, kindness and yes-you-can-do-its.

I want my failures (and there are many) to remind me that I can do so much better, and so much more.

I want to go to bed every night knowing I did my best, even when I didn’t feel my best.

Because my boys deserve a better me.

Thank you, Greta, for inviting me into your space, and challenging me with such a great concept of great expectations.

Thank you, Alison, for challenging US to take care of ourselves, too (and not just our kids)! Follow Alison on Writing, Wishing, Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest (especially if you have a sweet tooth. Seriously.)