The Mother Guilt

Today, the weight of The Mother Guilt sits heavy on me.

Not that anything in particular has happened. Yeah, it's been a rough week with tantrums galore from both girls, though mainly Sofia. We've taken milk away, carried her out kicking and screaming from a birthday party, sent her to bed right after dinner. It hasn't been pleasant for any of us.

And, well, these are the times I become most mindful of my responsibility here -- and when the inevitable therefore floats to the surface: I become ultra-aware of my flaws. The screaming when I should be patient, the angry words I wish I could take back, the unnecessary criticism, my insensitivity and lack of empathy. The expecting too much from a 4-and-a-half-year-old girl (who though, in my defence, is going on 14).

There is no doubt my daughters know I love them, and this is how I reassure myself. We spend lots of quality time together every single day and I have absolutely no problem showing them affection, talking and playing with them.

But my job - this duty I've taken on - it is so important, essential, scary. And it is forever. It's funny how looking back I realize how easy I had it when they were infants. I simply had to keep them clothed, fed and alive. Now? I'm in charge of things like teaching them empathy and cooperation and how to respect authority without giving up their personal rights. But also how to blow their noses, how to break the stem off asparagus, how to tie shoelaces and cross a street and say "Who is it?" when someone rings the doorbell.

That's a lot of information to have to pass on, and to have to do it while remaining calm and patient is almost too much sometimes. Sometimes I can hardly function in the world - how on earth am I going to get them to adulthood, all 4 of us still alive to tell about it?!

A while back I read a great book called "Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child" which had a huge effect on how I think about parenting - and even how I look at relationships in general. Its premise is that we as parents (and as people) can use conflict and difficult situations as jumping off points for further parent-child/human intimacy and as a teaching tool for raising empathetic individuals. And, really, in theory it is very simple. Except the main crux of the book emphasizes keeping calm. Instilling patience and empathy through...you guessed it...patience and empathy.

In so many ways, I feel like I've already failed, though intellectually of course I know the road is still very long. Every day becomes a challenge to face where - even if Sofia has thrown herself on the floor crying for "ONE LAST BOOK" before bed - my one and only task becomes keeping calm and carrying on.

So, basically, I'm screwed.

I don't think I'm adult enough for this parenting stuff. But...I keep putting one foot in front of the other and wake up almost every day a cautious optimist because, well...this:

Keep on keeping on, parents. Trust me, we're doing fine (or whatever, we're doing the best we can).