You not gonna tell me what a do! ~ The Name is Mom

I have volumes to share about Mother Daughter Camp with my girl this weekend, and will, but I have to stop here first. When my eldest was three, and this is dipping back into history about ten years, dynamics in my mommie life had changed. Baby sister was here and I had gone from smooth as silk, easy breezy, mom to harried, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SERVE TWO? Mom, without even a breath. I was the definition of overwhelmed and decided I probably never was a very good mom. Just as I began to let the idea that perhaps this was just a phase and that I'd grow into this new job, my son changed too.
He went from, smooth as silk, easy breezy, two to YIKES MY WORLD HAS CHANGED AND SO HAVE I, three.
Hopelessly, I was removing him from the kitchen swing previously referred to as the refrigerator door and scolding him out of the kitchen and through the living room and down the long hallway to the bedroom when he turned on his heals and stopped and stood squarely at me saying, "You not gonna tell me what a do!"
Oh my, that was The End.
 
No more perfection.
Not in me and not in him.
(Poor Sissy-doll never had a chance.)
Today, as I think about it, I remember someone in my head loudly screaming something while I laughed at the absurdity of the transaction.
Perfect.
I took a long, deep breath.
The I'VE GOT THIS PARENTING THING DOWN mom left our house in the instant and the WELL, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH THIS mom arrived.
I like the illusion of that perfect mom. She was cute and sweet and fairly easy going.
Or was she me, enjoying the ride and never really getting it all that right?
I think the latter.
And I believe that the real answer in all of this is I'm best at being a Wisdom-for-the-moment Mom. That's the mom I chose to be, The Wisdom-for-the-moment mom.
The title is the job description, and it suits me well.
Thankfully.