Note: This column was written the same week as our move. It is a very clear indication of the frustration I was feeling in mom-land.... I think many of you may be able to relate..
Amy
The Mom Chronicles: Real Mom Moments
Well, one week of unpacking at my new residence under my belt and thankfully, I have carpet. That I can actually see. Woo hoo! Thank goodness for the very generous reader who delivered Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies to the newspaper office for me. They were most certainly needed, and appreciated. Thank you, whoever you were! It’s the little things, truly!Additionally, I decided that last week’s idea of the bathroom as a haven isn’t the greatest place to seek comfort after all! While organized and non-chaotic, the seat is cold (and there is nothing worse then a cold toilet seat!), the scale lives there as a constant reminder of all the Girl Scout cookies that have been consumed, and it offers no protection from noise, kids or husbands! So instead I retreated to my front yard (albeit it small) where I put out cute springy décor and raked some leaves and dog poop. It was a truly fulfilling experience. Now if only it were warm enough for planting flowers, I would truly be content. Instead, I am settling for walks in the new neighborhood with the dog and meeting my new neighbors on west fourth street. Well, this week’s topic stems from something I have struggled with recently, and know many of you struggle with as well. The topic is mom guilt. Unfortunately it comes in the form of what I like to call the “Real” mom moments when we are reminded in a very sobering kind of way the importance of our role, the reality of the impact our actions have on our children, and of our own humanity. Real mom moments usually occur after we do something we regret or acting in a way that did not show our brightest of colors. They are the moments after we loose our patience and temper and yell at our kids, or take out a bad day on them by being short or unresponsive to their demands, or saying or acting in a way that is less then admirable. And unfortunately, these are the moments that we agonize over the most, and talk about the least. After all, to who do we want to admit that we screamed at our kids or lost our temper? With whom do we want to share an incidence of losing patience with our kids and saying or doing things that made them sad or even cry? And when our child acts out and mirrors to us something we have said or done in one of those less then glorious moments, to whom do we really want to admit where it was learned?And so instead, when we behave in a way that we feel a parent should not, what do we do? We hold it in. We guilt ourselves. We blame ourselves for our children’s behaviors and short comings. We worry about the possibility that we have ruined our child for life, that they will in some way carry our own personal flaws with them for the rest of their days and may even perhaps turn out just like us. Gasp. This, I am told, is what being a parent is all about. Those moments when we feel bad for not being our kids best example, engaging in power struggles or yelling at our kids are what make us parents. That is because in feeling bad, we are reminded of how much we love our children. How invested we are in them. How much we long for them to have a happy and positive childhood and how truly terrified we are of making mistakes that result in them turning out ruined or flawed in some way. This last week I found myself in tears in my doctor’s office, for a number of reasons, but one being out of pure frustration with myself as a mom. I was feeling horrible that I had been short tempered and impatient with my kids, that my son wasn’t listening to me or respecting me and how that meant that in some way I failed him, how I felt my kids were doomed to be horribly sad and screwed up as adults because I have been stressed out and sad myself lately, and how truly awful of a parent that made me. Surely my kids would be better off with out me. And then came the words I didn’t expect to hear. My doctor shared with me that that very afternoon he had two moms that came in and sat in the very chair I did and voiced the very same things. I was not alone. In fact he himself admitted to not always being patient, or understanding or with out mistakes in his own role as a parent. And so emerged this reality of this very common, yet not talked about thing. How easy is it for us to tell others when our kids do well? To share stories about something great our kids did as it was a positive reflection of us as parents? And why do we do this? It’s because those are the times we feel our best and most confident in ourselves in our roles as parents. But what about those other times? Those times when we don’t feel like we deserve the parent of the year award or feel we failed our kids in our role of parent and role model?My challenge for you? Share these times, too. Don’t hold on to them, or lie in the guilt they may illicit.Talk about them as you would the times when you had a remarkable, uneventful family outing to a public place or made a trip to the grocery store and everyone left with out any incidence of tears or tantrum. For these moments are real, too. They are perhaps even more real in that they are what make us as parents great. For it is in those moments when you feel less then stellar, that you actually are doing a stellar job. It is then when we show our love, devotion and dedication to our children the most; when our own desire for them to grow up happy and healthy is strongest. It probably won’t be natural or easy at first, but I think you may find yourself surprised that the very person you choose to share some of those times will likely have done the very same things or felt the very same way themselves.Take heart, my moms, you are doing a great job.
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