I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to get something so right as I do being a mom, and for the most part I guess I’m pretty good. But I do know one thing for certain. I have so much room for improvement it’s crazy. Like if I was a house on the market, your realtor would definitely describe me as a fixer-upper. Overall I look nice, but if you get close you can see the paint peeling in places. Some days more than others.
I have a co-worker who commonly says of our critical care patients, “let’s leave em better than you found em,” and that kind of describes what I want for my children. They’re the future, and my overall goal is to impart wisdom, compassion, and a strong moral code for my children to carry with them throughout their life. But there are many days that end with me thinking I’ve messed that up royally. I pretty much mess up motherhood on a daily basis, and even as much as I desire to get it right, I do not.
Here’s five ways I mess up motherhood consistently.
1. Patience. It usually starts out pretty good. I smile contently at my adorable children as they wake. They stumble into the room rubbing their sleep-filled eyes, their adorable bed-head crowning their smiling faces.
My heart runs over with pride in those children of mine. Then our day starts, and my patience wanes. I feel so patient at first, but it’s like they suck it right out of me. Something about people climbing in your lap as you try to pee, it just syphons the patience right out of you.
Kids have accidents, and you understand that. But it never stops. They have accidents all day. They slow down when you say hurry. They spill things on their clothes when you’re going somewhere, but stay completely clean if there’s nowhere to go. They don’t have to pee unless there’s not a bathroom, or you forgot the diaper bag at home. They can dress themselves independently when you’re staying in for the day, but can’t manage to figure it out when you’re running late.
They drop food in the floor right after you sweep, and they decide they’re hungry when the dishes are finally done. They’ll have the worst attention span for a task when time is of the least. They can always find dangerous objects that don’t belong to them, but can never locate their other shoe. They desire to play in their rooms the most right after they’re cleaned. By you.
Murphy’s Law was most likely developed by Mrs. Murphy, and she came up with it all after an especially heinous day at home. I can know in my heart that my children are only two and four, and that they’re acting like a two year old and a four year old, but that doesn’t always keep my patience bank full.
2. Yelling. So then I yell. My patience is sucked right out of me, and I want to flip out. I can’t make heads or tails of it. Anger is a sneaky animal in the parenthood realm. You can be chilling, cool as a cucumber while kids scream and run circles around the couch. The house can be in disarray, and you can have a to-do list that is six miles long. But you’re good. You’re fine. This is parenthood, you think, and I’ve got it under control.
You’re doing crafts, you’re homeschooling, you’re baking some bread, and then suddenly you’re screaming at your kid for something they’ve done twelve other times that day. You didn’t bat an eye before, but for some reason now your head is spinning, and the voice coming out of your mouth is unrecognizable. And even as your tone raises and your child’s eyes widen you cannot stop. You do stop, but only after uttering elevated rants that you cannot take back.
*insert Mommy guilt
3. The menu. I have ideas of what I want for my children’s diet. I want to increase their water intake; less juice for the toddler. Even as I water her juice down.
I think, today we will try something new! Less nuggets, more fruit!
I won’t give that constipating cheese. I won’t give that constipating cheese. Well, cheese is good; just not six servings.
I won’t give sugar today! I won’t give sugar today!
I will expand our menu beyond scrambled eggs, hotdogs, and macaroni! Then we have scrambled eggs, hotdogs, and macaroni.
4. Television. I don’t really have any problems with TV. I personally love television. I watch it whenever I can, which is never when the kids are awake.
My husband and I love watching a series or movie together, and we spend a large amount of time doing just that. But apparently what’s fun for us is bad for our children. It rots their brain. It teaches commercialism. It opens them up to situations and themes that aren’t supported by our family’s belief system. It prevents them from exercising both their body and their mind.
So what do I do? I let them watch TV all day.
We go places. We play games. We play outside. We do school, and we do crafts. But there’s always that part of me that feels like I fail as a mother for letting that box watch my children when I need to clean up after lunch. But seriously, I don’t think I could get anything done without Mrs. Vizio to keep them occupied. Just being honest.
5. Clean-up. So you know they say children don’t keep, and as I watch my girls literally shoot up before my eyes I am certain this is true. Their childhood is fleeting, and as a mother I want to capture and savor every single moment. And I want to enjoy it.
I want to tell dust to kiss my grits, and I want to scoff at my dirty floor. I would love to never do dishes, and to forget the word laundry even exists in my vocabulary. That’s what I want to do, but the reality is that I can’t.
I can’t ignore the dishes, and I can’t forget about the laundry. The fact remains that the bigger your family the more you have of all those things, and though I want to let all that go, I cannot.
I always thought stay-at-home moms had more time with their children, and while I now personally know that’s true, it’s not the end of the story. There’s also more work! There is more time spent cooking, cleaning, and running errands. It’s not stuff you want to do, but you have to do to keep your household livable and healthy.
Yet society tells me not to waste my time cleaning, that I should spend it soaking up my children’s youth. Those are tough shoes to fill. It’s tough to not waste time cleaning yet not become lost in an avalanche of neglected housework. When someone figures this out please let me know.
As it is I don’t feel like I get it right at all. I don’t feel like I’m getting it all wrong, but I definitely feel like I’m messing it up. And even though my sweet girl hugs me unprompted and says “I love you so much Momma,” it doesn’t completely quell my feelings of inadequacy. If anything her sweet little heart only serves to spur me to do even better by her, to be even better for that precious child.
I guess I do mess up, and I probably mess up every day, but I still show up. Every day I wake up and I start all over. I start over fresh, and I strive to mess up a little bit less.