I've read a lot of mommy blogs. In many of them, the moms confess to dropping off their kids at school just on time, or even--gasp! late; where they admit to showing up at school in their sweats; where, in general, they confess to having everything somewhat less than perfectly together each morning.

Before Beth started preschool this fall, I swore (just inside my own head, not to anyone in particular) that I was not going to be one of those moms.

No, I was going to be one of the other kind of moms. The mom who had too much pride to wear sweatpants in public. The one whose daughters are always sweet, smart, uber-well-behaved, and with matching ribbons in their hair. The over-achiever mom, the one where people shake their heads and say, "How does she do it?" and secretly envy me.

You can already see where this is going, right?

I am so not that kind of mom.

It took about a week for me to start hitting that borderline between "just right on time" and "sorry, we're a minute or two late" at drop-off each morning.

Sometimes I fix Beth's hair hurriedly, only to look at it and realize that her pigtails are totally crooked but I don't have time to re-do it. Sorting through our messy "hair-fixing drawer" and finding two barrettes that are the same color is a triumph, much less ribbons that coordinate with her outfit.

Often Beth does not want to wear the cute little outfits I have in mind, and would rather wear her pink sweatshirt and sneakers every single day. Preferably with lots of fake plastic jewelry. (We usually work out a compromise).

Beth has admitted that she sometimes has a hard time listening in class, and one time was even told she had to sit in the red chair (She seemed to regard sitting in the red chair as a fate worthy of hardened felons, so hopefully it will remain a rare event). My other daughters are sometimes cranky, and sometimes they cry, and Lucy always, always insists on going down the stairs all by herself, super-slowly, so that a traffic jam builds up behind us.

It didn't take me long to realize that if I wanted to work out at the YMCA in the mornings, there was no way I was going to shower and dress before preschool drop off, then shower and dress again after exercising. For awhile I thought maybe it would be okay to be the mom who at least wears cute trendy exercise clothes and looks all athletic, but cute trendy exercise clothes are expensive, so I don't have any. I just wear my old, perfectly servicable ones instead.

I forgot that it was supposed to be pajama day and sent Beth to school in regular clothes instead.

In short, I am not the put-together mom I wish that I was. These moms exist. I see them in the pick-up line. But they are not me, and I'm learning to accept that.

I may not have showered in the mornings, but that's because I'm on my way to exercise, honest I am.

My daughter may not be trendy, but she's dressed and she's clean. What more can you ask for? Plus, I have to admit I enjoy her unique sense of style and I think it's cute when she wears cowgirl boots and pink camouflage leggings with a frilly dress.

Maybe I do forget to read all the little papers that are stuck into Beth's cubby every day. That's because I prefer to spend my time reading novels. Surely that's better for my mental well-being in the long run, right?

My daughters are not perfectly-behaved. But who wants automatons for children anyway?

Maybe one day I'll get my act together, and I'll be early and showered and stylish.

Until then, I will not be one of those moms. I'll just be me.