Gummy Bear Mommy

Ok, I’ll admit it – I gave my daughters gummy bears. I broke the cardinal rule of motherhood. All parents know basic “rules of parenting.” You know stuff like: no candy, no juice, no cookies, no cake, no fruit punch, no sticky-gooey caramel delights, and no soda. Our children will all eat apples, peas, whole wheat bread (with the crust), and drink lots of milk. We will all live in houses with white picket fences and perfectly manicured lawns too. Augh, the American dream!

Funny thing about those “rules of parenting” is that it’s much easier to apply them when you don’t have kids. Back in the days when I was a self-righteous know-it-all, I’d stand in the grocery isle witnessing moms toss a treat to their toddlers to stop them from screaming. And then there were the dads who gave-in to their whining, whimpering kid’s demand for a candy bar in the check-out line. No way, I swore, was I going to become one of those parents! Not now, not ever! Not even when hell freezes over.

Instead, I set my sights on being the perfect mom. The kind of mom who does everything right and nothing wrong. The kind of mom whose children sit quietly in the grocery cart and do what they’re told. The kind of mom who always makes a healthy, homemade dinner for her picture perfect family. The kind of mom who never yells at her children and delights in her parenting achievements when all of her bright-eyed children bring home straight A’s on their report card.

Hmmmm, funny how things change once you have three kids of your own! Suddenly you become a little less judgmental and a little more wiser.

So, despite my dedication to the unspoken rules of parenting, I caved. I gave my girls a couple of gummy bears to reward them for not stripping down to their underwear while we were shopping (they like to team up on me by threatening to get naked at the most in opportune times). What the heck – it kept them quiet and happy, me quiet and happy, and my 14-month-old daughter amazingly amused. So, we breezed through Target with all the other moms shoving treats at their tantrum-prone tots, effortlessly, quickly and – most of all – happily.

Since that fateful day, I’ve decided that I don’t have to be the perfect mom. Perfect moms have a made-from-scratch dinner on the table by 5:00 p.m., all the laundry washed and folded (perfectly of course), and they absolutely don’t, absolutely won’t, under any circumstances – give their children gummy bears.

But, here’s the thing, that kind of parenting is just not fun!

I’m far from perfect. I can’t remember the last time I made a complete meal from scratch (though my husband swears I’m a good cook!); if I get all the laundry done for the week I’ve accomplished a magnificent fete – and if I get it folded, I’ve accomplished a miracle; and yes, I give my girls gummy bears –those oh-so sticky, gooey, slimy, sugary, gummy bears – occasionally as a treat. Yep, I’m so far from perfect that even Martha Stewart couldn’t save me if she wanted to.

Yet, in living with all of my newfound imperfection, I’ve discovered something far more important than perfectly folded laundry, homemade dinners, and a stunningly clean house. That the imperfections in my life – like those gummy bears – make me a better mom. My girls have fun with me. They laugh more. They giggle with delight as they strip down to their undies for the 10th time of the day and streak across our front yard with all the neighbors watching in horror. And so do I.

So maybe the whole gummy bear thing isn’t so bad after all. I’m not one for clichés but I guess it really is the “little things in life that matter.” It’s just that my “little things” come in the form of gummy bears.

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