I feel like I end every day with a lot of guilt (and, consequently, usually a large glass of wine).
I raised my voice too much (something I thought I’d never do.)
I lost my patience.
I let them watch too much TV (something else I thought I wouldn’t do).
I didn’t get them outside enough (or at all).
I didn’t teach them enough.
I taught them too much. (JUST KIDDING about that one.)
I didn’t pay enough attention to them because I was trying to get other things done.
I didn’t get enough things done because I was with them all day.
See? I can’t win. Either way, and no matter what I do, there’s guilt to be felt if I let myself feel it. It’s nonsensical. Why do I do this to myself every day? I know that it’s wrong.
There’s not even time for me to feel guilty about my eating choices anymore. It’s just whatever I can stuff in my mouth is OKAY. I forgive myself for that, I guess. Maybe I shouldn’t, but that’s a topic for another time: self-care. Moving on.
I’m just not that nice sometimes. Okay? You heard it here first. Sometimes when Simona makes an honest mistake, and says, so apologetically, “I’m sorry, mommy”, before I even react at all, I wonder if it’s because she thinks (or has experienced that) I’ll react negatively. And I kick myself. Am I that mean? I want to maintain a household where it’s okay to make mistakes, because, hello, I make enough for all of us.
I feel like I spend half the time making mistakes and the other half trying hard to be overly fun and nice to make up for my shortcomings. It’s a vicious and frustrating cycle. I feel like I’m a bad example to my girls. Children learn from example, right? Our voices become their inner voices, right? I don’t want their inner voices to speak to them through gritted teeth. I want those voices to be kind to them, gentle with their mistakes, encouraging them to try again. We need a world where people have inner voices that don’t constantly berate and condemn.
But don’t we all do this to ourselves every day? Aren’t we, as mothers, supposed to be the most amazing people in the world, and yet we are the ones knocking ourselves down the most? If there is a mom out there who doesn’t experience this guilt, I would love to meet her. I’m not saying that in a snarky way. I’m saying maybe I could learn something from her. Maybe she has learned what we all need to learn—that we can’t do it all. We’re human. We can forgive ourselves and we can try again tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. Because mistakes are how we learn.
You know what else I end every day with? Besides a messy house? Grace. Forgiveness. It’s there if I can remember to take hold of it. I just forget sometimes that it’s so readily available to me. And if I would just add gratitude to that list too, maybe there wouldn’t be room for guilt. Maybe I can instead look back on the day and see the laughter, the growth (in all of us), the fullness of this life. It’s certainly not an empty life, and I think that is something to be thankful for. That, and the fact that tomorrow is a new beginning.