Not Even in the Running

I pass a tiny church on the way to my friend’s house. Being a preacher’s kid, I probably notice churches more easily than most, but the sign in front of this really little church just screamed at me.

It read: “Woman of the Year. Luncheon Wednesday afternoon.”

It got me thinking about what a gal would have to do to be named Woman of the Year. I mean, I won Mother of the Year once, but Woman of the Year? That’s a whole ‘nother Hillary!

But you’re probably distracted by my Mother of the Year win and are wondering what I did to win that prestigious prize.

Actually, the MOTY committee cited what I didn’t do as the reason I won.

I didn’t do their homework for them. And I didn’t clean their rooms for them.

I didn't stand over them with hand sanitizer and a bottle of Fiji water at the playground. Come to think of it, I was usually too busy cleaning house, cooking dinner, and doing laundry for us to do much hanging out at the playground.

When I discovered empty beer bottles stashed under my daughter’s bed, I didn’t tell her it was okay because everyone drinks when they’re teenagers.

When a daughter told me she hated me and wanted to go live with her father, I didn’t argue. She went, and three weeks later, she came back, ready to live in my home with my rules. A year later, the same thing happened with her sister.

When I found an emergency escape ladder hidden in my daughter’s room, I didn’t push her out the window.

Some might think that the mother of teenagers this unruly should never have even been nominated for “Mother of the Year.” But I’d like to point out that this isn’t the “Offspring of the Year” Award. My kids aren’t the ones being evaluated. “Mother of the Year” is about what a mom does – or in my case, doesn’t – do right.

The most important thing I didn’t do, however, the thing that most impressed the judges, is that I ultimately did not confuse my value as a person with my children’s behavior. Yes, I was tempted to blame myself when they misbehaved and was inclined to get mired down in the “mom guilt” so prevalent in our society. But I pulled myself out of that quagmire of parental regret, and that’s part of what makes me a great mom.

Here are my two secrets to being a great mom: First, love your kids, but don’t make your job as their mother your identity. Second, don’t sweat the small stuff, and don’t overlook the big stuff. Junk food and tap water are small stuff; sneaking out and underage drinking aren’t. In other words, picture a huge scale, one side being caring deeply and the other side not giving a shit. Try to find the balance. Even if you’re never nominated for “Mother of the Year,” you’ll know you’ve done a great job when your kid hands you a pink slip. You’ve done a good job when your child is self-sufficient and ready to take on the world. In the end, being a good mother is all about what you don’t do.

As for Woman of the Year, I didn’t get invited to that luncheon.