Guilt

Today turned out to be good, although yesterday was great. Steve and I went to tumbling where several of my mom friends also go. We decided to go out to lunch, which was good since I tend to get very sleepy after tumbling. At least having lunch would keep me awake. We all had a nice lunch, and a very honest discussion about how hard motherhood can be. One mom has a five week old, and is feeling very overwhelmed. Did I mention she also has a son who is not yet two years old? The baby is colicky, and her toddler won't nap anymore. I felt very bad for her. She feels like a bad mom because she is becoming short-tempered with her son. I will tell you that she is a good mother. No different than any of us, I suspect. But us mothers tend to feel guilt about everything child-related. Being short-tempered to your spouse may make you feel bad, but it will not evoke the guilt that being short-tempered with your child does.

I think as moms we tend to overemphasize how we treat our kids. We think we are just horrible if we occasionally yell, or grab their arm too hard, in our opinions anyway. I know I want to be the perfect mother. I, too, feel guilty when I am not smiling and playing on the floor with my son entertaining him. Nevermind that what I really want to do is zone out and read a book, or God-forbid, eat something that I want to eat. It just seems like if a mom does something that she wants to do, even if our child is watching Sesame Street and enjoying himself, that we are not a 'good' mother. I mean I remember saying myself that I was never going to let my child watch a video; that's just a babysitter. Well, I am here to say not only has my son watched a video, but when I was baking Christmas cookies this year, he watched three, IN A ROW. Damn me to hell.

I still feel guilty whenever Steve watches TV. To make myself feel like a 'good' mommy, I limit his intake to two shows on PBS in the morning. Period. Most mornings we go out; this is the best time for both of us to get things done. But if we are home, I feel better if I can say he only watched 1-1 1/2 hours of PBS. I read to him at least three books a day, and we interact constantly. I used to make the joke that I was always in his face. I think that comes from him being my miracle child as well as my fear that he was also going to be an only child. Steve has crayons, watercolor paints, fingerpaints, and Colorw*onder fingerpaints, markers, and an easel with which to use them all. You know, I believe a child should be well-rounded, so I must provide everything possible for him to be a budding artist:) Steve is only allowed to use these items when an adult is present, for good reason. Truth is, that I am so tired lately that I rarely get these things out for him anymore, and Jeff isn't as interested in them as I am. So, once again, I feel guilty. I try to remind myself that I take him to tumbling class each week, he was enrolled in a baby music class, he continues to go with me on Wednesdays while I have my one hour 'break' with adults---he goes in the nursery and LOVES it, he goes to MOPPETS---a program for toddlers while I attend a monthly MOPS---mothers of preschoolers meeting---and LOVES it, on alternate weeks we attend a playgroup with kids his age. This does not include spontaneous trips to his cousins or trips to stores; he loves to shop! So on paper, I feel like I'm doing OK, but in reality I often sit and wonder if I'm doing enough. Not scheduled events, but in the everyday 'Mommy and Steve together' time. I hate to say it, but playing with trains and trucks bores me to tears. I long for adult conversation. I laugh when I think how different my days are now compared to when I taught fourth grade. This is the time of year we'd discuss the Holocaust and WW2. Well, instead of talking about intolerance and cruelty, I am singing 'If You're Happy and You Know It'. Just a little different, don't you think?

Now I do not want to complain about staying at home, because honestly I am happy to have the opportunity to do it. And I am much happier this year than I was last year. Steve can now communicate with me, so now I don't feel so alone. Plus, he truly is my buddy; he goes everywhere with me and nothing makes me happier than to to see him smile and to hear his laugh. It's just that I didn't realize there was going to be so much guilt involved in mothering. It never lessens; it just changes, and no one likes to admit that they feel like a bad mother at times. It's like if you say it, you become it, or at least people will think that of you. And I feel particularly guilty when I feel this way, because we went through so much to have him. I should be better at this; I feel I'm a good mother, but I could be better.