I’m sure there isn’t a female blogger alive who hasn’t written about feeling guilty about how they parent their children.
Yesterday, I stuffed up big time. School discos for both boys on the same night as Boy Wonder’s art class. I’d planned dinner. I thought I had the logistics of getting everyone where they needed to be, at the right time, nailed.
Except, I had remembered my own personal disco times and not the ACTUAL disco times. Cue Cheeky Boy arriving to his disco at the end. A frantic phone call from The Saint with Cheeky Boy crying in the background made my heart sink to my boots. Balls (not what I ACTUALLY said, but you get the idea).
Bless him, with chocolate and Skylanders, Cheeky Boy rallied. “it’s not your fault mum, everyone makes mistakes”. He said, mouth full.
Why can an 8 year old accept that people make mistakes, but I can’t?
And so the spiral of guilt began.
What was my excuse? I don’t work. How could I mess this simple thing up?
I’m a bad mother.
I don’t do enough,
I don’t love them enough etc., etc., etc.
I am so scared of getting it wrong and messing them up. I wonder if somehow I am to blame for Boy Wonder having Asperger’s.
Where does this come from? Why do I feel so guilty?
My own childhood was sad. I think I probably carry some of those experiences with me. In my quest to give my children a better start than I had, maybe I am setting my standards too high.
I also think that as much as I love them, maybe motherhood hasn’t turned out how I had imagined it to be.
Oh god, there I said it.
I love them, I do. But Lordy, it’s hard. It definitely doesn’t come naturally to me. I look at mothers who declare that having children has made them a better person, or has completed them, in wonder.
I don’t recall screaming like a banshee very often B.C., so no, I can’t say my kids have made me a better person. I think of myself as a work in progress, so I am as incomplete now as I was B.C.
Then I stop for a moment. I remember that my children are blessed to have two parents who love them, and each other very much. We might not get it right all of the time (or some weeks, any of the time), but we are doing the best we can.
As I always remind my boys: “Your best is good enough”.