Mothering offers many opportunities to screw up.

In the last six months I have let my cell phone disrupt the class play, much to the chagrin of the entire cast and audience. I have repeatedly forgotten my child’s lunch, play dates, and library books whereabouts. We missed the opening day of baseball. Spaced out on two birthday parties (yes we have a calendar, but I was alternating between the calendar and the-hang-the-flyer-on-the-fridge method). I wrote down the wrong date for the piano recital – missed it. I went out of town when I was supposed to chaperone the only field trip I signed up for. I often send them to school without their faces washed or teeth brushed. And last but not least, I went on vacation without my child’s nebulizer – the possible outcome of which is death. Given the particulars, I feel safe in saying that I can speak to the issue of making mistakes with more authority than any other subject. By the same token, my track record with mistakes has given rise to mantras to soften these experiences and make us wiser in their wake.