Confessions of an Imperfect Mother

Image by Josh Willink by Pexels

Let’s just get this out of the way right now. 

I’m not a perfect mother. I don’t strive for it, because during my first attempt I compared myself to my other friends who had their shit together, while I kept trying and drove myself batty trying to keep up with their cooking and organizational skills. 

I was no Martha Stewart, although I religiously watched her shows with my children, learning how to make the perfect royal icing, homemade pizza crusts, and folding a fitted sheet the proper way (I still fold them the Martha Stewart way and find a keen satisfaction in a perfectly folded fitted sheet). 

I once fed my children healthy organic meals, back when I was Mormon and only had two daughters. I wouldn’t dream of serving them McDonald’s and snacks like Oreos. Cereals with added food dyes were out of the question. 

There was no way in hell I’d serve them foods of this type. I scoffed at the mothers that would take their children through the drive-through for chicken nuggets and fries. (Didn’t they know the chicken they consumed from these places was a hodge podge of chicken parts thrown together, reformed, and made to resemble chicken?!) I would NEVER!

Well, as life would have it. My nevers became my new reality. When I was pregnant with my third child, I craved hot dogs and pizza. For two weeks straight I ate hot dogs and wondered why I had gained so much weight in such a short amount of time. (Well, duh Desiree I wonder why? Yes, I was too close to the problem I didn’t see the issue until my midwife asked me what I had been eating.) I stopped eating the hot dogs but kept the pizza in my diet. 

After two divorces a third husband and two babies later, I became a reformed mother of imperfection. I don’t blink twice when I make hot dogs and mac ‘n cheese for the kids (not a daily occurrence), nor do I question my mothering choices when they eat a bowl of Trix cereal (they taste like fruit), some Oreos (they are vegan), or want to eat McDonald’s fries with their McNuggets (it’s still chicken and potatoes).

Being uptight wasn’t my best mom face. There were far better things to worry about like who my 9-year-old is friends with on Discord. 

Children are a blessing and if they ask for the goddamn phone, I hand it over and chuckle. 

I guess my husband’s daily question, “Have you seen my goddamn phone?” (because he misplaces it often) has influenced my three-year-old to ask in her most polite voice, “Daddy, can I hab the goddamn pone?” 

Parenting has been quite the journey and I can honestly say it’s been the greatest adventure of my life so far. 

I don’t publish all my work here, so if you enjoyed what you read here, come see me over at

Hope you were able to learn something from this article. Please let me know what you found of interest, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for reading and I hope you’ll follow me, so you can hear other lessons I’ve learned while living on this planet with all y’all. We are more connected than we realize!

I’m Desiree, I’m living the life I preach. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

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