My desire to be perfect rares it's ugly head in odd situations. In general I consider myself a good mommy, but far far from perfect, and in all honesty, I think Oliver does better having an honest, but not perfect Mom.
Tonight I dragged my post- vacation lazy booty to the gym to attempt to break the running rut I've stumbled across and Oliver when to the Kid Center, which he loves. When I picked him up they had to tell me that I couldn't ever bring a peanut butter and jelly sandwich again, due to allergies. I felt like such an idiot, though it's clearly a new situation for us (solids in general, meals to day care, allergies). They were friendly about it, but it still made me feel like a dopey checked out Mom who didn't know the protocol of parenting.
All is well, now I know that lesson, moving on.
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