Tag Archives: motherhood

Mom Guilt

12 Oct

This past Sunday when bestie was over we somehow got on the topic of Mom Guilt.

Mom Guilt is a special brand of guilt reserved for mothers who are doing their best to do it all. It’s feeling guilty when you tell your toddler he can’t play outside because you have to stay inside and feed the baby. It’s feeling guilty when you let your baby cry for ten minutes while you finish your shower. It’s feeling guilty when you let your children watch more television than you know is good for them so that you can do the dishes. It’s feeling guilty when you neglect the dishes so that you can take the time to write for the first time in months.

Now, I don’t presume to speak on behalf of all mothers, but I have spoken to enough of my mom friends to know that most experience at least some Mom Guilt on a semi-regular basis.

I’ve been experiencing higher than average levels of Mom Guilt these past few weeks. I know that logically this is to be expected given the recent addition of Child #3 to our family. I keep telling myself that it’s normal for things to fall behind and priorities to shift while we adjust to life as a family of five. I tell myself this, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.

I’m doing my best to turn my life into a spinoff of an improv game I once played. Instead of adding, “yes, and…” to the end of each of my sentences, though, I’m adding an, “and that’s okay” to the end of each of my admissions of guilt.

Yes, Child #2 hasn’t had a ton of Vitamin D lately, and that’s okay. Yes, Child #3 had to scream bloody murder in order for me to shave my armpits, and that’s okay. You get the idea.

It’s okay because I’m doing the best I can. As much as I’ve prayed to the gods for superpowers or, even better, my very-belated Hogwarts letter, I sadly remain a mere human, and a muggle at that.

I’m not perfect. Even on my best days, there are still going to be dirty bottles on the counter and unfolded laundry in the dryer. There are going to be times when my household obligations don’t get my attention because of time spent with my children and vice versa. This doesn’t make me a failure as a mother, or as a spouse (side note: Spouse Guilt is another beast, entirely). It makes me normal.

I need to do better at reminding myself that at the end of each exhausting day [How long until babies sleep through the night, again? No, seriously, I can’t remember.] my children go to bed with all their basic needs met. Even better, they are (usually) happy, and at least somewhat clean. Most importantly, they are loved, and that is more than okay.


Moments to Remember

13 Jun

Today I am going to do something I don’t do all that often: take my mother-in-law’s advice (no offense, if you’re reading this, I’m just stubborn). She keeps telling me to write the things my son is doing and saying down because I’m going to want to remember. I know that this is true and I always mean to write things down, but so often it gets pushed back and put off. Not today. This is my first summer vacation as a working teacher and I am determined to savor and remember this precious time with my son. So with that in mind, here are two completely random stories of cuteness.

Monday was a gorgeous, albeit windy, day outside. On a walk around the neighborhood, Child told me that he wanted go to play on the swing set he saw in someone’s backyard. I explained to him that going into people’s backyards without their permission was called trespassing. He pointed at the swing set and said, “I want to trespass over there, Mommy!” Genius.

Child appears to have contracted another cold, so he was up a time or two last night. One of the times when Husband and I went in to check on him, he appeared to be wide awake and was talking up a storm. He told us, in detail, about the dream he had involving a snowplow cleaning up the street. Then he stopped himself mid-sentence and got a very confused look on his face. He looked at us with bewilderment and said, “Oh! What’s going on here?!” Apparently he hadn’t been quite awake when he started describing his dream. Husband and I spent some time afterward laughing about that one.

I’m going to try to get better at making note of these moments (like right now, as he runs at me saying, “It’s another booger, Mommy!”). It’s hard for me accept the fact that he’s already the brilliant two-and-a-half-year-old I see before me. I may not be able to fight off time, but I can do my best to capture it.