With each image cut out, I fought the thoughts as they popped in my head. Picturing them like a bubble; I pop them to get rid of them fast. As I quickly use scotch tape to affix each picture on the page, I realize it’s too late. Despite my best efforts, it made its home in my head. And by the time I hand over the packet to the preschool administrator, I have tears in my eyes. The dreaded thing was in full force.
Ashamed of the finished product I created for our soon-to-be preschooler; a “Me Book”, a scrapbook she’ll use to share her life with her teacher and fellow students throughout an entire school year. “She deserves better,” I kept saying to myself. I imagined the “Me Books” of other students. They probably had real pictures printed on photo paper or at least cardstock. Not printer paper using a printer on the brink resulting in faded and fuzzy images. Their parents probably use glue dots discreetly on the back. Not uneven pieces of scotch tape. Shoot, their family pictures are probably up to date too! Not eleven months old. Have you noticed how quickly kids grow?? And how do we not have a single family picture in nature where my husband is wearing a shirt? Well, we at least have that going for us – he’s a handsome Dad.
Welcome to my inner thoughts. It can get scary in here. I do my best to think logically about all of this. In the scheme of things, this is minimal. Why would this project make her think you love her less? You’re most likely not the only mom using scotch tape. I know I’m not the only mom who thinks like this.
While I was trying to blow these bad thoughts out of my mind (that’s what my Yoga teacher mom tells me to do) I remembered a morning spent with a friend. A few years back, before I had a child of my own, I sat at her kitchen island while she made her son’s class snack. I watched as a completely amazing, loving, intelligent and accomplished mother, quickly unraveled over how to tie individual boxes of milk in a cute and exciting way. I remember thinking, “It’s too early for a drink, but maybe we should anyway because it’s just milk.”
But now, with a child of my own, I understand completely. There’s this super ugly, unwanted, and dreaded thing that comes with having a child–mom guilt. You can feel pretty good one minute and the next, you’re the worst mom ever. Why do we do this to ourselves? I called that friend this morning to see if she knows why. We threw around a few thoughts:
1) Expectations we place on ourselves. Maybe because of what we thought we’d be as parents. Maybe because we wanted to parent differently than our parents did. Or maybe because we thought we could do better on a certain task which brings us to a second thought:
2) Comparison. Thanks to social media and Pinterest, there are literally endless opportunities to compare how you measure up to another mom. They say comparison is the thief of joy. So you too can have endless opportunities to lose joy if you let yourself go there.
3) Some shift in brain chemistry happens through becoming a parent and now you produce guilt. It just oozes out of your brain. Ok, so this might not actually be science but we threw it in there anyway because why else does this happen.
If you struggle with the dreaded, no good, ugly mom guilt thing too–have you stopped to consider why? What are your techniques to combat it? I have no good answers. No promises of sure fixes. Though I can promise you there are moms out there talking each other off the ledge. Providing a tight hug, a warm coffee, a good laugh, and a reminder that you are a great mom. A mom who loves their kids tremendously with a love that cannot be challenged by the quality of a “Me Book” or how creative you can wrap a milk box. And your child needs exactly who you are.
