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It was me against them—one mom against two preschoolers and a baby. Everyone was hungry, including me.

I snuggled Amy in her bouncy-seat, hoping to distract her for a few minutes. Then I quickly sliced apples and slathered peanut butter and jelly on bread for Josh and Katie Beth. Of course, they both grumbled for grilled cheese sandwiches instead. "Eat," I said. "Whining gets you nothing."

I poured cups of milk, ignoring the breakfast dishes in the sink and the unfolded laundry on the table. Amy cried, demanding attention. "All right, all right," I muttered. "You're next on my list." It was only noon, and I was exhausted and frustrated. How was I going to make it through the afternoon to dinnertime and baths—and finally bedtime? Why was mothering so hard?

The reality of parenting three children under 5 had quickly replaced my dream of being a "perfect mom." Some days I was a good mom. Some days I was a lousy mom. And some days my performance rating changed minute-by-minute.

There were days I overlooked the clutter of books and toys and shoes and savored my children's laughter—and days I yelled, "Get this mess cleaned up or else!" Days I cooked nutritious dinners—and days I served hot dogs for lunch and dinner. Days I took my preschoolers to the library and the park—and days I left the TV on for hours.

There were days I loved being a mom—and days I didn't. Sometimes all I wanted was a do-over.

Almost before I realized it, I had 17 years of mothering experience. All pretense of perfection was long gone. And then—three days before I turned 41—I found out I was pregnant again. Talk about a do-over! Just when my firstborn was finishing high school, I again faced morning sickness and maternity clothes.

As I grappled with "How did this happen?" then 12-year-old Amy asked me how we were going to raise our "caboose kid."

"Probably a lot like we raised you and Josh and Katie Beth," I said. "Your dad and I like how you three turned out."

Months later, I realized the significance of my words. Here was my chance to have another go at mothering, and I realized I wanted to do some things the same. That meant I must have done some things right the first time!

Christa, my unexpected blessing, is now a delightful and exhaustingly inquisitive 6-year-old. And, for the most part, I have enjoyed mothering a preschooler again. It's fun reading the "Little House on the Prairie" series with her, just as I did with her siblings. Her dad reads her bedtime Bible stories, a tradition he started with our first three children.

Christa helps around the house: putting away silverware, sorting socks, feeding the pets and making her bed. Just like her brother and sisters, we want Christa to be responsible. And, yes, she's learning the consequences of disobedience, too.

But I'm not doing everything the same. When my first three were young, I made one major mothering mistake: I aimed too high. I didn't want to be a good mom. I wanted to be a perfect mom. Anything less was unacceptable to me. I'm determined to avoid the "Perfect Mother" trap again.

A few months ago, I bought a T-shirt with my new mothering mantra on it: If at first you don't succeed, lower your expectations. Some of you reading this article may be shocked—but stay with me. I'm not advocating being a slacker mom. What I am saying is: Don't exhaust yourself pursuing the impossible dream of perfection.

My children—your children—don't want a perfect mom. Children long to be loved. And to paraphrase 1 Peter 4:8, a mother's love covers a multitude of mommy-mistakes.

None of my mothering days are mistake-free. Some are just better than others. When things go haywire, I've learned to stop, take a deep breath and try again. Sometimes I wait longer than I should to push the pause button. But it's never too late to say I'm sorry when I've lost my temper and yelled at Christa.

When my first three children were preschoolers, my perspective was shortsighted. I didn't realize how each day connected to the next and the next—and quickly became months and years of their lives. I deposited memories into my children's hearts and minds—many, many good ones and some I wish I could erase.

As I experience motherhood again with Christa, I've abandoned all pretense of perfection. I'm focusing on loving my child—and forgiving myself when I make mistakes. It's never too late for a do-over.

Author Beth K. Vogt embraces all the stages of motherhood, including welcoming her new daughter-in-law, Jenelle, into her family.

Read more about Beth and her new book, Baby Changes Everything: Embracing and Preparing for Motherhood After 35, at www.MOPS.org/LateinLife. While you're there, check out her Web site and blog and find out how you can be a part of a special online discussion with Beth this August!

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