There are days that I am gripping the kitchen sink trying not to let the anger steam out of my mouth because of the piles of dishes that have stacked up yet again.

There are days that I am fuming because the dogs want to go outside every five minutes and bark incessantly to chase down the mailman, the neighbor, or the leaf that threatened to knock down our house.

There are days that I have no patience for George’s temper tantrum over the fact that I tried to help him peel a banana so he could eat more of it (which he was also crying about not being able to eat more of because the peel was in the way).

There are days that I look back and think, “Well that could have gone better.”

I am learning every day that I have no clue what I am doing as a parent. Like zero.

There are days that I feel utterly lost, and I raise my voice more often than I would care to admit to the dogs and to George.

I feel an enormous pressure to be this perfect mom, which I understand is unrealistic, but I feel that is the time we live in. With all the comparison and articles surfacing on social media saying you should do this or that to be the best parent, it can be really degrading to look back at some of these moments where I have lost my cool.

You know what? I am sick of it. I am sick of feeling this guilt because I had one bad moment. I am sick of someone who doesn’t know me writing an article or making a comment online that I am not a good parent because I raised my voice a few times.

I am sick of ME telling myself that I am not good enough.

I think all we can do in this world is try, and then learn from those moments, and try to do better the next time.

I am trying to make the most of the time I am with George, but every day isn’t going to be sunshine and roses. I think we can do our best to have good days, but we also have to accept that every day cannot be perfect and go as planned. Parents are not perfect. God gave us kids to remind us of that I think. So why do we expect ourselves to be perfect every day?

God gives us trials for a reason.

Parenting can be a trial some days. They don’t just stare at you and coo sweet sounds forever. They grow up and try to put forks in sockets and hit the dogs with a baby swifter after dumping their milk all over the floor in a span of five minutes.

Parenting is beautiful yet messy, complicated yet natural, lovely yet trying, empowering yet terrifying, and oh so humbling.

While every day isn’t going to be a good day, I don’t have to let those days define me as a mom. I don’t have to let those moments limit the type of mom I hope to be.

Because the reality is there are a lot of good days. (It’s funny how one bad day can cloud up the dozens of good days.)

Regardless of the how we define the day, every moment I am proud to be his mom. And that right there (coupled with this sweet smile) is what makes me wake up every morning determined to have a good day.