Some professions thrive on perfection. I don’t want my brain surgeon saying, “Oops” and smiling sheepishly. I’d prefer my dry cleaner never to use the wrong chemical or leave the iron down too long. It’s excellent if the pharmacists doesn’t leave a message on my machine that starts with, “Umm, did you take any of that medicine yet?” But mothering is not a job in which perfection is possible or even desirable.

The mantra good enough is a reminder that perfectionism isn’t necessarily something we should be shooting for in mothering. The times we screw up often offer us an opportunity to develop wisdom and insight. Our errors often provide our kids with a dose of resilience and self-sufficiency that they wouldn’t have developed without growth inducing challenges (a.k.a. our screw-ups). Good enough isn’t meant to reinforce us when we hurt or harm our kids. It does ask us to gently look at how we view our humanness. By asking for perfection from ourselves, what subtle messages are we sending to our children? What tone does pressuring ourselves set for our families in terms of expectations, responses to failure, on one’s worth as a human being? When I find myself losing sleep over my mistake-riddled mothering, I remind myself in the long run, what I can muster is good enough.