Before I had my son, motherhood was a spectator sport for me. When I didn’t have children of my own, watching women (and men) with children in the street, on the subway, at the mall, in a restaurant – anywhere – was particularly intriguing to me. And I found myself doing it – making judgments. I’m not proud of this fact, but it was true.
I’d cringe at the mother who gave her baby soda and donuts for breakfast on the train. I’d wince when a mother cursed at her child at the mall. And I tried to keep myself from giving a disapproving stare when I saw a child scream or hit their mother and call her out her name because she told little Johnnie “no” when he asked if he could have a toy. I caught myself thinking, “I wish a child of mine WOULD…”
Now I’m a mom, and I kinda get it.
What you feed your kids, how you handle a tantrum, what preschool you send your kid to – those are all personal decisions that have nothing to do with anyone else. And I’m sure that now that I’m a parent, someone will (or already has) make snide comments about how I choose to raise my child. Some days I experience self-doubt in this area even though I know I’m doing my best. What kind of mother should I be?
I have friends who never yell at their kid(s). I have friends who look fabulous ALL THE TIME – never a hair out of place, all while baking 100 cupcakes for their child’s class, working a 9-5, going to the gym and PTA meetings, having drinks with their girls and catering to their husbands. Who are these women and what planet are they from?
Most of the time, when I picture myself as a mom, all I see is TIRED. My son runs me ragged in the most beautiful way. But fly I am not…not anymore. I twist or pull my hair back and put on an outfit that I don’t mind getting apple sauce or peanut butter on. I get all dirty at the playground and my pedicure is busted because my baby likes to step all over my toes. I try to enforce good eating habits, only to find myself feeding him only mixed veggies or a few fruit puree packets because that’s all he’ll eat and I don’t have time to wrestle him to his high chair. And then I go to bed exhausted, only to wake up to his gorgeous face looking for me as he stands in his crib – and I do it all over again. But I love it…even though at times motherhood seems like an occupational hazard!
While I was pregnant, I read all the parenting magazines I could find. I “advice” was staggering and the pressure was real. You should breastfeed until the kid is 20 years old, only feed them organic food, start teaching them different languages at 6 weeks old, they should be a piano prodigy by the time they’re 3, and should get into Harvard with no problem if you follow those guidelines. I’m embellishing obviously, but you get my drift.
Arming yourself with information can be useful. But too much expert advice can lead you into the trap of believing that there is one right way to do things and that if you’re not doing it that one way your kids will suffer: A perfect recipe for mother’s guilt.
The reality is, there is no recipe for what it takes to be a good mother. Sometimes mothers lose patience. They yell. They feed their kids junk sometimes because it’s just easier at that moment. And sometimes mothers let their kids get away with things that they shouldn’t because they’re just….tired. But one of the things that those articles never mention is that children are very resilient, and smart…and they know that when you act in love that you’re acting on their behalf. That’s being a good parent.
Now I just trust my inherent mothering guide and muzzle the internal critic that can do the most damage. They say kids don’t come with directions, but they kinda do in a sense. The directions are your instincts, that little voice inside that helps you make decisions about your child that come from love, prayer, listening to and trusting in God – and having faith in yourself.
Doing what you believe is best for your children and your family makes you a good mother, no matter if it fits anyone else’s standard. There will always be decisions you make that others will be able to find fault with, but your true allegiance is with your kids. When you’re comfortable with your decisions, you need to just stand in them, own them and recognize that the only ones you have to answer to is yourself and your child. You don’t have to answer to anyone else. And you’ll do just fine.
