I feel bruised and beaten as a mother these days. I just came from a weekend where once again, I was regaled with the accomplishments of someone’s perfect child. In this case it was a grandmother, at a Rod Run we were attending, bragging about her seventeen-year-old granddaughter who built a street rod with her own welding torch, and HAD to go to the Car Show awards because she won the junior division. In that same breath she also managed to tell me that the girl is getting straight A’s in Running Start and will graduate from high school with an AA before she heads off to an Ivy League college.

I wanted to say, “Yeah, well, my eighteen and twenty-one-year-old daughters eat copious amounts of sugar while lazing around on the couch playing computer games.” Had I cut her off that way, she would have moved into judgement mode, probably excused herself suddenly, and scurried off to tell her daughter, from whose loins the infamous seventeen-year-old was birthed, how lame my kids were, and their imminent careers picking cans off the side of the road.

As it was, I just matter-of-factly grunted, “huh” and walked away. I do appreciate hearing about almost grown children who seem to have their lives in order as such a young age. I’m glad for them, I applaud them. Most adults don’t have it together that well. However, “my granddaughter built that car,” would have been enough information and just once I’d like to see a Facebook post about a kid who is having a hard time.

I’m not talking about the exploits of toddlers. It’s cute when they’re young. We parents see the video, have a good laugh, then are glad we don’t have to clean up whatever mess occurred. I have my own video of my oldest, at three, covered head to toe in Bag Balm (a Vaseline like substance used as diaper ointment when my kids were young).

I want to see pictures of teenagers holding up failing SAT scores, stopped on the side of the road getting their first ticket, or a hidden camera video of one escaping out their bedroom window. I’ve never had issues like that with my daughters, so I could view those escapades, commiserate with the parents’ pain, and be glad I didn’t have to clean up that mess.

As it is, my oldest landed home in a ball of flame after the private college she went to for a year didn’t work out, she lost two jobs, and totaled her car. She’s now home, working part time, and paying off the thousands of dollars in loans she accrued from her experimental year of life. My youngest, just out of high school, is struggling to get any sort of grounding at the moment. She had a job for two weeks that she thought she’d work at for awhile before she started college. Let’s just say there was no love lost between her and her employer. The good part is she learned she doesn’t want to be a cashier for a living and the experience has prompted her to go to college right away.

I am not complaining about my daughters. They are good, smart girls. They are at the right ages to be figuring this life stuff out. I know they will find their foothold at some point and be just fine, even if I have to get them out of bed at a decent hour to do something proactive about their futures.

What I want is to know we are not the only ones whose kids aren’t perfect. Are we?

Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. You can read more of her writing and her daily blog on her website livingwithgleigh.com or on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh,” or twitter @livewithgleigh. Her column is available every week atmaplevalleyreporter.com under the Lifestyles section.