Sure, we may have missed the mark on some things. Even when we do something right, we seem incapable of taking note of it before shaming ourselves for all we got wrong. I don’t have to tell you the mantle we wear as mothers is heavy, the tasks before us endless. It is, “You love our family well-you are a woman of valor! Eshet chayil!” It isn’t a, “Next week, work a little harder on making your own bread.” They are meant to be a blessing, spoken over the valorous women in our lives. A sort of toast and a commemoration, a raising of your glass to the woman of the house. Instead, of being a directive, the words are celebratory. It asserts we’ve already accomplished it. Proverbs 31 uses the words eschet chayil to describe this allusive woman, which directly translates to “woman of valor.” But interestingly, the Jewish faith doesn’t imply this is something women should aim for. It would be a beautiful picture if it weren’t so daunting. The wife of noble character it describes is nothing short of intimidating-getting up before dawn, making her family’s clothes and conducting lucrative business with her handiwork.

Proverbs 31 is famous for the picture it paints of the ideal woman. But I’m starting to think on days like Mother’s Day, or any day we feel inadequate, the last thing we should be doing is worrying over everything we’re not. Mother’s Day can feel like the day to celebrate the golden standard of mothering, leaving you to hope others don’t get close enough to see how insecure the whole parenting thing really makes you feel. But these days you’ll just settle for someone taking note of your effort. Like you are just close enough to getting it, only to feel like you just aren’t making the cut. I put forth a good effort, but his dad is the better cook. And given what I know about my cooking ability, I’ll take it. “Thank you for making this dinner! But I think I like Dad’s spaghetti better.”

Woman of valor