I've been talking with other mothers recently. Other mothers who have admitted to me that they struggle with this motherhood thing. I think a lot of us believe that everyone else has got it all figured out. I'm here to tell you *I don't*. I make mistakes. *All the time*.
So. Full disclosure time.
I think mothering is hard. Really, really hard. Way harder than I expected it to be. There is something to be done, all the time, every day. And there is never enough time to get it all done. This summer, there have been times when I've gone through an entire day and realized at the end of it that I never took a shower or even brushed my teeth. Ew.
Parenting with a partner is hard. My husband and I come from very different parenting philosophies. We don't just disagree at times, we *clash.* It's hard, SO hard, to find the common ground that our children need and deserve. It's getting easier. But it's by no means easy. I don't know that it ever will be.
I *crave* quiet and calm. Children are LOUD and active. There are times when I ask my 5 year old to please, please just stop talking for 5 minutes. And then I feel really, really guilty because I know how many parents would give anything to have their biggest problem be a 5 year old who talks too much.
There are times when I find parenting exceedingly boring. Times when I feel like I'm stuck in an episode of Groundhog's Day. Times when I pretend I'm engaged in a game or a book while I'm really sneaking (another) glance at the clock to see how long it is until bedtime.
And let's talk about some of the mistakes I make. Ready? (Deep breath here...)
Too often, when I'm trying to get things done, I treat my children like interruptions instead of the beautiful, funny, amazing children that they are. I am too critical of my children sometimes. I expect too much. I am really, really, *really* grumpy in the middle of the night. There are times when I've parented from a place of frustration or anger instead of from a place of calm. Although this doesn't happen often, it's happened *too* often. I've yelled. Very loudly. I've said mean things that I immediately wanted to take back. Even though I don't believe in spanking, I have swatted James' butt. I've grabbed his arm a little too tightly. And there is nothing--nothing-- I regret more than the parenting that happens in those moments of frustration.
So what do I do?
I apologize. When I realize I've made a parenting mistake, especially if I've overreacted to something, I tell James. I apologize for my actions. I explain that it's not about him, that it's about me. I tell him that everyone makes mistakes and that I just made one. I'm not sure if this is the right approach, but I do it anyway.
I try to see the shades of gray. I'm a perfectionist. I have really high standards for a lot of people, including myself. And when I fail, especially at mothering, I sometimes get into black and white thinking where the world consists of good moms or bad moms. I've made mistakes so I am a bad mom. A bad mom who ruined *everything.* So then I try harder to perfect, to avoid mistakes, to make everything good again. But this black and white thinking just makes me more anxious, more apt to be on edge, more likely to do the very mistakes for which I was already berating myself. As time has gone on, I've learned to forgive myself for mistakes more quickly, even when I feel like I don't deserve it. I try to remember that the road is long, and that I'll have many, many more chances to do things right. I remind myself that real-life parenting involves very little black and white and lots of shades of gray. I'm not the world's best mom, but I'm not a terrible mom either. And I don't have to be perfect to be a good mother and to raise happy children.
I talk to other moms. I hear their struggles, and I know that I am not alone. Behind the shiny exteriors that we present to the outside world, we are all fighting an internal battle to do the best we can, with what we've got, and love ourselves despite the mistakes we make.
I try again. And again, and again, and again.
In the end, isn't that all we can do?
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