I suffer from a rare malady called perfect friends and family. While most don't think this would be a bad thing--and really it isn't, I'm just jealous--it is terrible when you are not perfect.
Here's what I mean...a perfect Mommy-friend of mine potty-trained her kid in 4 hours and he's not had a single accident. While I'm very happy for her, does she have to rub it in?!? I've been through the worst two YEARS of my life getting Lydia potty-trained, and she still needs frequent reminders and has lots of accidents. Another Mommy I know has a 3-year-old who recites poetry. Another has a 4-year-old Olympic athlete in the making. And on and on and on... I especially loathe the gloating cards of perfection people send out once a year, er, I mean Christmas mailers.
I get it...I'm glad for all of you, but I'm happy that my kids are gleefully average--it's perfect for me. My kids have tantrums. My kids have accidents. My kids misbehave at times (well, near constantly might be a better description.) But my kids are also wonderfully sweet, and even if they aren't junior overachievers, they are wonderful to me.
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