The Friday edition of the Toronto Star led into Mother’s Day with several essays about moms. One by Toronto writer Elyse Friedman was particularly funny; it captures the desire to do right by your child and the guilt and fear that you might not be doing so by “faults” like not making the bed or swearing. Here’s a snippet:

“The truth is we sometimes want things and do things that aren’t in the best interest of our children. And so, as Mother’s Day looms, I thought I would take a moment to prepare an apology for my unconventional (I hate to use the word ‘bad’) parenting in the hopes that my grown-up son will someday read it, and if not understand, at least forgive enough to cast someone thin to play me in the movie.”

After a long list of potentially bad behaviour, past and future, she concludes:

“No doubt I am forgetting any number of transgressions. So in conclusion, my darling boy, I will just say that I’m profoundly sorry for everything that I have done wrong, or will do wrong in the future. You are a complete delight, a total sun-shiny joy and in my view, the perfect child. I wish I could be the perfect mom.”

I love that last line about the perfect child and feel that way about my own sons. OK, nobody is perfect and I’m conveniently forgetting/overlooking some things, but in the scheme of things, the imperfect things are insignificant. If I have been able to be a good mom, it is totally because my boys have been similar joys; and of course because my own mom is pretty terrific!