It was 7:15pm, 15 minutes away from bedtime and already I was "behind schedule", which meant Emerson would probably start getting overtired and cranky any minute. "Grrrreat, I can't wait to listen to her cry + refuse to go to bed", I thought to myself multiple times. *mom guilt*. I gave her a late dinner that night because I was too tired to get anything together at the time when we normally eat. *mom guilt* I finally fed her frozen chicken nuggets {probably the processed kind that's against all mommy rules}, and some peas I found in the fridge that had been previously reheated about 5 times, so they resembled raisins more than actual peas. *mom guilt* I let her eat a yogurt by herself because I didn't feel like feeding it to her. *mom guilt* The result: YOGURT EVERYWHERE. When she began waving her hands + repeating furiously "All done!", I stripped her clothes off right there while she was still strapped into her highchair. The battle of the clothing was not going to be fought this night. I just wasn't in the mood. *mom guilt* YES, bath time, which meant it was finally almost bedtime. Thank God, bedtime was drawing nigh; the possibility of sitting down + not playing ring around the rosey for the 85th time was in sight. *mom guilt* She was playing independently in the tub with her doll and her balls . {Okay, that came out wrong. Let's just not even go there. They're round fabric objects that are made for the tub.} I was sitting right beside her scrolling through Instagram, not playing with her. *mom guilt* That's when it happened, "PLOP". Yes, she had pooped IN THE TUB. What made it worse was that I didn't realize it right away, so my precious girl was playing in the tub with a turd {or four} floating around. *major mom guilt because that's disgusting* After leaving her butt naked on the bathroom floor while I attempted to clean the poop-infested waters, I realized she was covered in goosebumps, because after all it is winter. *mom guilt* By this point, it was well past 7:30, Emerson's usual bedtime. I went to pull out her fleece pajamas only to find that I never actually washed them as I had intended to do that day. *mom guilt* We improvised and were rounding third base on the way to home plate (bedtime!), when I realized I had no whole milk left to give her in her nighttime sippy cup, all because I neglected the grocery store on purpose that day. *mom guilt* I did manage to read her favorite book + find all 3 of her baby dolls. I rarely let her sleep with them because all she does is play, but that night, the mom guilt was weighing down hard on my shoulders. She slept with all 3 baby dolls, one of which was filled with water from being in the poop-infested bath water earlier in the evening. *mom guilt, again* It was now 8:15pm and finally, she was asleep. I pulled her door shut + made a beeline for the couch. I plopped down, practically belly flopped really. I was DONE. My job for the day was finished. *mom guilt- how could I think that about caring for my own child?*
You see, all of that took place over the span of about TWO hours. And how many times did I feel guilty about something that I had done during that time span? If you kept track while reading, you'll know it was 13!! Thirteen times that I, MOM, felt guilty for something that I'd done {or not done}. Why are we so hard on ourselves as moms?
Here's something I've been preaching to myself for many months now. It's OKAY to not be a perfect mom. In fact, there's no such thing in existence today. Even the most put together, well-to-do, Insta-perfect moms are not actually perfect. We ALL feel less than worthy of this title of "mom" at times. I think it's part of the territory. Part of the beauty of being a mother are the times that you fail, but you pick yourself back up and try again anyway. It's the times when life punches you in the throat and you punch it right back. You know what, my daughter eats pureed pouches in order to get veggies most days + she eats frozen chicken nuggets + her fair share of boxed 'processed' snacks. I know some of you are judging me right now without even realizing it, which is okay. Because honestly, so many times I feel guilty for my lack of concern about her well-being in the nutrition department, but that's just it. I shouldn't feel guilty because even though I may not give her the best of the best all the time {in my defense, her pouches are organic!}, you know what I do give her? I sit with her daily + give her cuddles, just mommy + Emmie cuddles. I talk to her during every meal {fiiiine, most meals}. I get on the floor and play with her multiple times throughout the day. I listen to her ramblings and I teach her numbers, and words, and animal sounds. I pretend to put her baby dolls to sleep approximately 348 times per day. I pick her up when she stands at my feet and says "mama, up-uppy". I attempt to comfort her even when I haven't a clue what's bothering her. I get up with her in the middle of the night when she's frightened, or teething, or just wants to be with me. I may not have all of my ish together when it comes to this mommy thing, but I am her biggest advocate, and she is my absolute biggest fan!
That's what we have to remember moms: Our kids love + root for us NO MATTER how many times we fail each day. Just as we love them despite their tantrums and diaperless poop escapades {or maybe that's just me}, they love us. Despite our lack of energy, 3-day-old hair, and yes, even when we raise our voices, they love us. Your kids won't punish you because you didn't give them enough of yourself. Ehh, that might be a little white lie. But, my point is, on those days of doubt, don't let your shortcomings in the "mom" department make you feel like you are failing your children. You are their MOTHER. You are better than anyone else at that role. Un-wad your panties and OWN IT, GIRL.
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