Happy Mommy's Day!

Here is my pre-Mother's Day Daily Press column:

Once he became mobile, it didn't take long for my 10-month-old son to get into a few messy situations.

Most recently, he darted into the pantry where we keep the trash can. Before I could shout "Bye!" to the person on the phone, his little hands were searching like an elephant trunk for garbage goodies, some of it sticking to the corners of his mouth as I snatched him from the dirty corner.

There's also the shoe-licking incident -- I can just see my mom cringe as she reads this -- and the times he's collected a mouthful of fur after tasting the dog's short-haired coat.

So far, I've forced myself to handle these situations with a calm "oh well" and, usually, a bath. Life is just going to get messier, after all.

That's what makes me nervous. If I can't keep my son out of the garbage can, how am I supposed to teach him to stay away from strangers or to choose the right friends?

Of course, that's a logical -- or, rather, illogical -- leap that only a new mother can make. But these daily messes, otherwise known as failures in a mother's mind, sucker punch the ego.

While some friends chat on Facebook about their 7-month-old's potty-training success, and others are busy teaching their infants multiple languages, I'm running like a maniac to keep my kid out of the grungy kitchen corner.

In my pregnant daydreams, I was the mom that would teach her baby sign language. We'd laugh and play -- only with educational toys -- and end the day snuggled up to a storybook, also educational.

That dream has played out on a few occasions, but most often I'm sprinting through life trying to fit everything into the schedule.

I'm saddened by that sometimes, but mostly I've gained a new level of appreciation and gratitude for my own mom.

At 24 years old, I haven’t been out from under my parent’s rule for very long. It was a traditional home, one where the parents ruled supreme and the kids worked subtly (we thought) to gain some ground.

As a bratty teenager, I made it a point to highlight my mom's flaws, but even then, I knew she was working day and night in my best interest.

Now, as I lie in bed evaluating parenting techniques and worrying about ear infections, I understand that parenting doesn't stop at car pools and ballet recitals. It never stops.

As an adult, I hang on my mom's reminder that I'm doing my best, and my best is just fine -- even if she does cringe at the possibility of a germy situation.

So, in honor of her, here's an early Mother's Day present to all moms: If your kid isn't surfing through garbage right now, you're doing better than I am. And, most of all, you're putting your whole heart into being a mom, and that's what your kids will remember.