Day 143 The Perfect Mom Project

Yesterday, as I sat writing my blog, Avery came downstairs and stood at the bottom of the stairs looking at me. She kind of put her arms out in a way that seemed like she was asking “What do you think?” I looked at what she was wearing and tilted my head in a curious, questioning way, certain that I was about to step right into some land mines. Her immediate reaction was “Thanks! My Mom says I look STUPID!”


First of all, as I have mentioned before, I might not be a perfect Mom, but I am bright enough to know you do not tell your daughter she looks stupid. Secondly, I did not say a word, I just tilted my head! I do not like even responding to the “How do I look?” question, because I know (from asking that question myself) that you already do not like what you are wearing and part of you wants to be convinced it looks good and the other part of you is upset that the person does not like what you are wearing. There is no way out with this question. You are toast! At some point you have to just keep quiet and let the person asking figure it out on their own.

I used to get so upset when I would put on an outfit that I had figured out in my head earlier and then once on discovered it was hideous. I would still have to ask someone (usually Mark) if it looked OK. Poor Mark, he wanted so badly to say the right thing, but he never knew at the time that no matter what he said it would not help. I think he has figured it out, because when one of the girls asks me how they look now, he cringes, because he knows that I will answer. Even though I know how all this works, I keep trying.

I am not sure if I will ever get it right, I want so badly to help my girls feel confident and cute when they head out to school. Somehow I think that if I give them fashion advice, they will be delighted and we will have a special mother/daughter moment. This actually only happens once in a great while. The rest of the time I am standing in the light of the train heading my way and do not see it until it hits me! I would like to tell you that when that happens it was a learning moment for me, but that would be a lie. I continue to step on to the tracks every single time.

Today Aly asked me for help with her hair before she left for school. I told her I would as long as she did not yell at me. After a couple of swipes with the curling iron she said, “That’s OK Mom, I will finish it”. Well, I was brushed off like a piece of dandruff, but at least she did not yell at me! I guess some days, when you are raising girls, you have to look to find a bright side.