I was really anticipating receiving my copy of Even June Cleaver Would Forget the Juice Box because it’s a book about how to stop the relentless cycle of trying to be perfect mothers and berating ourselves when we aren’t. Who doesn’t need a reminder that being good enough is, well, good enough.

When I first started reading it, I wondered if maybe I didn’t need it after all since I’m not someone who lies awake, anxiously wondering if my kids are doomed to work at strip bars because I didn’t get them into a perfect preschool that will lead them straight to Harvard and onto the path to a great career. I don’t flog myself over the fact that I yell sometimes when I get mad. I never scheduled either of them into ten different activities while worrying that they aren’t popular enough with their friends. Maybe I didn’t need a book to tell me to ease up on myself.

Except I do, because tonight at Hayley’s soccer orientation, Breanna blew through her diaper with a massive poop and I had neglected to bring a) any wipes, b) a blanket, or c) a pair of clean pants. Frankly, after all of that, I was a little relieved to discover that at least I had put DIAPERS in the damn diaper bag. And so I stood there, silently berating myself for being such a craptacular mother that I had left home without the essentials, and suddenly I caught myself, thought of the book and how it explains that we have an automatic thought process that makes us do this to ourselves, and I laughed a bit and just did what I could with the situation at hand.

(I pulled out the Mai Tei wrap carrier that was in the bag, laid her on part of it on top of a table in a spare room, then used one of the ties to wipe her clean, put the diaper on, decided the spot that had leaked on her pants wasn’t that big and wouldn’t even touch her skin anyway since it would be against the clean diaper, and just pulled her shirt waaay down so no one would see. And yes, I will wash the carrier.)

In the book, Dr. Ann Dunnewold explains to us why we do this to ourselves, from the expectations we lay on ourselves to the messages we get from the media. She tells us how we can recognize whether we over-perfect everything (spotless house, no yelling), over-protect (hovering helicopters), or over-produce (hello, activities every day and ultra-scheduled socialization) and how to stop the thoughts that make us criticize ourselves.

One thing that struck me was the overprotection. I’ve never really considered myself overprotective but there was a paragraph dealing with the “what if” question and I was amazed to see myself in it. Things like “what if I go out and the baby cries while I’m gone? What if she cries the WHOLE time I’m gone?” I had fun when I went out to see George play a couple of weeks ago but I admit that on the drive home that was all I could think about, thinking that maybe Breanna had been wailing for me the entire evening. One time she cried a lot when I took Hayley to story time at the library and so last week part of my brain was worrying about whether she was crying up a storm at home; when we arrived back, I found that Breanna and George had been napping on the couch the entire two hours that we had been out. It’s hard to shut it off but I’m going to try.

Dunnwold also talks about what she calls “Awfulization” which is when you take one bad anthill and turn it into a giant mountain of badness. I do that too. We can have a pretty good day overall but if the bedtime routine goes badly – and it often does since Hayley would generally prefer to do anything other than sleep – and I end up yelling at her, I sometimes focus only on that part and so the entire great day suddenly seems like it was awful when in reality it was only a ten minute span that sucked. I really need to remember to keep it in that perspective.

There’s a great chapter on how to create your own version of the perfectly good mother instead of the mythical perfect mother. What I like is that unlike the belief that we need to be perfect June Cleavers who love every moment of parenting and get pure unadulterated joy out of it at all times, and who also never ever raise their voices or forget the juice box (or the change of pants), Dunnwold basically reminds us that we can give ourselves permission to be human beings who lose our cool, get bored, have bad days, and to also put ourselves first sometimes because as they say – if Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. After all, it was easy for June Cleaver to be perfect. She was a mom once a week on television. We’re moms 24/7 and there’s no one to yell “cut” when things slide downhill.

In general, there’s nothing news breaking in the book. but that’s exactly what makes it great. It’s not some perfect formula designed to make your life easier, better, more enriched. It’s a book that sort of slaps you on the back of the head and says, “Hey! You already KNOW this, it’s okay to relax!” It will give you that reminder that we all need sometimes when we’re wallowing in the mire of “I suck” and help you pull yourself back up with the reminder that you don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be perfectly good and I think that’s a lot easier to aim for than the perfect saint of motherhood.

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I have an extra copy of the book that is sitting here in need of a good home. If you think that you might like to read it, leave a comment telling me why. Next Friday I’ll cut off the comments and I’ll do a very professional drawing – and by professional I mean I’ll write down everyone’s name on a scrap of paper, toss them in a bowl, and get one of the kids to pull one out and someone will win a free copy!