Yesterday my preschooler had a Thanksgiving feast at his school. Being one of four class moms, I was on board to bring something. The other moms were bringing side dishes to a turkey dinner and a cookie craft for the kids to make and eat - sweet potatoes, cornbread, stuffing, mashed potatoes, corn. I was in charge of the paper goods.
I admit that I hate to cook. Cooking is not something I enjoy. I don't spend time on Pinterest looking up recipes and cute ways to serve food. I pretty much dread the 4 o'clock hour when I have to decide what I'm cooking for dinner.
Looking at how these other moms also had more than one child (like me) and were working moms (not like me), I was feeling mighty inadequate at what they had accomplished. They were baking and cooking the night before and that morning. I was bringing paper plates in a plastic bag from the supermarket.
Clearly these moms were all over Pinterest with their sweet potatoes and marshmallows to get the kids to eat them, and their cute turkey cookie craft ideas. I felt such the loser, the slacker, the bad mother.
And then I thought, well, at least I'm here, in the classroom with my little guy. Who cares that I forgot to buy a tablecloth or bring plastic forks. One of the other supermoms had that covered with her supply of everything that could possibly be necessary for a Thanksgiving feast in her trunk.
After about 30 minutes, I didn't care anymore. My little guy could care less about all that food on the beautiful harvest paper plate I had purchased. I confess he did eat the marshmallows and, of course, that cute turkey cookie. He just was happy to be spending time with me. And that's what being a mom is all about.
