Before having Caden, I'd feel the occasional pang of guilt in my stomach for telling a white lie, playing "hooky" from school (ok, work too), eating too many sweets (damn you skinny-cows!), and a handful of other pre-mom misdemeanors. The guilt was sparse and typically quieted by a long conversation with my mom (during which I covered every unnecessary detail about WHY I felt guilty). I, for the most part, enjoyed a guilt-free lifestyle. Then, I had my first child, and now I'm fairly certain the knots in my stomach are permanent (Pepcid just doesn't work)!
While I was working full-time (it's starting to seem like ages ago), I felt tremendously guilty for sending Caden to daycare everyday (even though we chose the best place we could find with the highest possible ratings). I would wake him up, give him a million kisses, sing to him, feed him breakfast, give him a million more kisses, then "da-da" would do the drop-off (because my heart and conscience couldn't take it). While at work, there were moments, hours and sometimes entire days that I felt like crap, because my cute, loving baby was in daycare and I was assuredly missing some incredible "first" moment (even if it was his first nose-picking) while typing the latest update to my work project. I knew plenty of seemingly satisfied, happy, dynamic working mothers who had equally happy, well-balanced, loving children, BUT I still felt so incredibly guilty that I wasn't the one caring for my child. When Caden would get sick and the administrator of his daycare would call me, I'd immediately feel like an awful parent (and person) for not noticing that he was getting coming down with something (or did I notice and ignore it?) How did I miss the signs? (Did he feel neglected now?) Did the doctor think I was a terrible parent too? The guilt was overwhelming. In fact, it was all-consuming at times. I (naively) thought that once I started staying at home with the boys that the "mom guilt" would calm the heck down. Boy, was I wrong! It may actually have gotten worse.
Recently, Caden fell in between a bench and a wall (don't ask how) at a "kid-proof" (but not "my" kid proof) play cafe, and he acquired his first fat, ugly, bloody lip (see previous post). The worst part? I was right there (literally holding on to him) when he took the nasty spill. Talk about feeling like a failure! I scooped him up like a mama hen and he buried his tiny, bloody face in my jacket, but not before looking at me with those big brown eyes that clearly asked, "mama why'd you let me fall?" The guilt froze my entire body in that moment.
On a daily basis, I have to unapologetically drop cooper into his swing seat, as I chase after Caden at top speed. Sometimes, the poor baby is enjoying a calm, angelic sleep on mama's chest and "BAM," he's jolted wide awake in an instant, as his crazy mom runs in the other direction screaming "NO, CADEN, NO!" I feel guilty for that. I'm sorry, mostly, that sweet Cooper has fewer moments to himself with me than Caden did, because he was first. I feel awful that every time I go to the toy store etc., it's usually to buy Caden a new outfit (as he's outgrown all the others), or to add to his ever-growing car collection. Cooper sits happily in his hand-me-down onesies with the occasional new rattle, and he never seems to care. I know, I know... He won't remember any of this, but I do and I will, and I feel GUILTY. Every time he cries and I can't get to him because I'm "trying" to prevent Caden from imminent injury (usually injuring myself in the process), I feel that nagging, never satiated, always churning, ugly "mom-guilt."
[As an aside: why do husbands/da-da's never seem to feel this guilt? Seriously! I ask Phil at least once a day if he ever feels guilty for this, that or the other thing, and the answer is always "Uh, no. Why?" "Why?????" I furiously ask (sometimes out loud, sometimes to myself), "How about because I am carrying around enough guilt for a family of twenty, and I'd like to share the wealth (or the curse)!!!" So, now I'm left wondering is it genetically programmed in us, as women, to feel guilty as soon as we give birth to/foster/adopt a child? If so, thanks God! I appreciate the gift that keeps on giving! To all the husbands and dads out there, here's some advice: pretend that you feel guilty every once in awhile. It'll do you and your relationship some good.]
I also know that my mom, at an age undisclosed, still feels guilty too. It never stops... So, I suppose this is just another badge that we get to wear as mothers until we pass on to the afterlife (which, I'm hoping it ends there, because I want to be leaping upon the clouds guilt-free).
Most of the time, the "mom-guilt" is more of a curse than a blessing, but it does one very positive thing. It keeps us striving to be our best for our kiddos... our imperfect best.
Everyday we act as protectors, nurturers, nurses, cooks, teachers, counselors, enforcers, entertainers, and so much more. Everyday we feel like we're not quite good enough at any of those jobs. Yet, just as I finish typing this post, Cooper is napping on my chest and Caden just looked up at me (before throwing a plastic bowl of apple-jacks at the wall) and said "my mama" in the sweetest way. For a brief moment, all is right in the world, and I feel nothing but absolute love and gratitude (even for the dreaded "mom-guilt"). For a moment, I feel guilt-free...
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