Am I a Good Mom?

The hospital parking lot matches my mood: frantic and loud. 

I clench the stroller and jog across the street, my son babbling along. 

The diaper bag sits in the car, forgotten.

Am I a good mom?

I exhale and catch my breath.

The receptionist's eyes twinkle at my son.

I try to ignore the smell of bleach as she speaks,

"Fill out this form, then take a seat."

My son's chubby fingers reach for the pen

"No," I murmur again and again.

Sun peeks through the windows

I stare at his silhouette,

His curls bounce with shades of blonde and brunette.

He sits on the white crinkly paper and plays with his diaper.

I lift him off the bed—he shuffles around the room.

He finds the doctor's cabinet and knocks the doors with a passion.

Then, the doctor comes in. She holds a clipboard and implores,

“Are you daily brushing his teeth?"

Did you take away the bottle?"

"Is he drinking less than twenty ounces of milk?"

I look up at the ceiling and mumble, "No, no, no.”

Am I a good mom?

Maybe the doctor would answer, "No, no, no."

But if being a good mom means 

prayers for wisdom, doing my best, and ignoring the rest,

then perhaps I, and we can answer 

"Yes."

Children, moms, and seasons come in many silhouettes.

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This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Silhouette."

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