How to be an imperfect mom

I have failed miserably at being a perfect mom.  Shocking, I know.  With all the pressure women put on themselves to BE perfect, I can admit that...well, I never felt that pressure.  As a sort of confessional, I shall now list a few things that put me in the running for the Not Perfect Mom Award of 1995-2011:

• Yelled
• Over-reacted
• Not always been nice (sometimes mean)
• Occasionally gave her cereal for dinner instead of a home-cooked meal
• Let her out of the house with a dirty face and ignored the snot rockets knowing that as soon as I wiped it another one would be right behind it so it was an exercise in futility
• Took her to daycare (0H THE HORROR!!!!)
• Never had a "play date" (wtf is that, really??)
• Introduced her to heavy metal at a young age
• Taken her to rock concerts (starting at age 4) and taught her to "throw the horns"
• She didn't play soccer (the first year she was old enough, the practices were scheduled right after school.  I guess perfect moms don't have day jobs.)
• Taught her that "vagina" is a fun word to say and can make for some seriously good laughs
• Explained that, in hockey, sometimes raising a middle finger to the ref is the best way to show your disapproval.
• Let her color her hair pink at age 11
• Didn't care if she walked out of the house looking like punky brewster, as long as she was covered.
• Taught consequences with punishment instead of a nice, long talk

And the list could go on and on because, really, I eff up in one way or another every day.

(I'll pause to give you perfect moms a chance to catch your breath or call DSHS or whatever you need to do.)

(Ready?  OK!)

So somehow, in spite of all my errors, Kenzie is turning into an awesome human.  She's a bright, funny, sensitive individual who doesn't really give a rat's behind about fitting in, being liked, looking a certain way or any of those other teenage things.  She has a HUGE heart, so much so that when she sees a wrong being done even if it's thousands of miles away, she's completely affected by it.  She knows what she wants to do with her life and she's taking the steps to get there.  She's seen more loss in her young life than many people see in their whole lives and she's still hanging in there.

So this begs the question:  How in the hell did the mom who did all those things in that list manage to end up with a kid like her?

Oh, that's easy.  Jesus.  See, while I was yelling at her and teaching her to throw the horns and letting snot run down her face, He was teaching her to tolerate me and love me in spite of my imperfect ways.  Really, she has taught me more than I could ever teach her.  She belongs to God, and I've been given the huge responsibility of taking care of her FOR Him.  And, I occasionally fail miserably as indicated by the list above.  And even when I forget about the whole grace thing, she never has. 

So, I really can't take any credit for her being such an awesome human.  But the "vagina" thing...well, that was all me.