It seems I'm offending him and his family on a regular basis and he's at the end of his rope.
I didn't have an answer for him.
I feel like a normal mom.
I love him and his wife and his children.
And, despite, having more than 30 grandchildren on two sides to keep up with, my husband and I feel like we make a genuine effort to make sure they know we love them.
We mark birthdays, holidays, and try to celebrate triumphs and milestones when we can figure out how to be two places at once.
We have parties. We go places.
We know all of their names and how old they each are.
We keep up with their reading progress and spend a couple weeks each year trying to choose just the right book for their interests and reading ability at the time.
But can I be a normal mom?
I don't think so.
I'm not sure there is one anywhere.
Every mother I've come across has her own set of guidelines and rules for raising her children.
Some are really creative and sew all the kids' clothes.
Some can whip up fancy hairdos on the way to school while driving the car.
Others can handle a professional career singing and dancing and still tuck the kids in at night.
Some start up a business and raise kids on no sleep.
Others are competing for the Olympics in the skeleton race and winning gold.
I look around and there are mothers everywhere trying to get a handle on what's normal, what's expected.
Most feel they're not doing enough.
Others feel they've either been too indulgent or too strict.
Some stay home scrubbing, cooking and cleaning.
Others stress about not being home scrubbing, cooking and cleaning.
The job title alone is a killer.
Moms are supposed to do and be everything including stepping in as a healer, a psychic, a handyman, a miracle worker and a friend no matter what.
Come to think of it, nowhere does it say "be normal."
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