(This post is not to say that fathers do not experience the things mentioned, from a mother's perspective, in this post. It is also not to look down upon any woman who works outside of the home. I respect any person who takes on the task of raising and/or providing for a child. One of my dearest friends is pursuing her dream for and because of her children.)
Bedtime stories are as much a part of the day ending as is the guilt of a mother. I don't say that as a victim, as though the choice to care for my children every day was something that happened to me. No. It was a choice.
The way I saw it was that I could invest in to the next 60 years of my life and make that quite comfortable, to be honest...or I could invest in to eternity by choosing to be the one to have the largest influence on my babes in their formative years. I felt like a hero when I was pregnant with my first and realized I had made that choice to stay home. Man, was I vain. I still thought that raising a child was about me in some way.
Women have 10 months to realize they are...mothers. (9 months is a strange lie, and I'm not sure why more people haven't caught on. 40 weeks is 10 months, yo'.) It's a strange transition. Motherhood is a jangly waltz, if you will. And if you feel like you are getting it all wrong...good for you! You are officially a mommy!
So, if you understand the guilt I am talking about as stay-at-home parent--or are questioning if you want to be one--here is my $8.26 on the matter. (One last disclosure: this post is mostly written to help me figure out what I am thinking and, possibly, to pacify my ego. You've been warned.) My poor attempt at narrowing this down is in the following 3 areas:
1. Life Lessons...
What do my kids see when I am angry? Sad? Stressed? Rushed? This is how they learn. I will not shield them from human emotion. I want to teach them how to navigate through it.
I cry in front of my kids. "It's ok to be sad. We still do our chores."
I apologize when I am wrong. "I'm sorry I was loud when you were upset."
I pray in front of them. "Dear God, help mommy to be patient."
I talk to myself. A lot.
I personally think there are three ways we teach our children:
1) By example
2) By example
3) By example
It's ok to screw up. Their lives will be full of mistakes. We can't avoid making mistakes. (Accidents are given their name for a reason.) Our children's mistakes are not all our fault. Enjoy that for a minute. Our job is to teach them how to live with excellence, a moral compass, and self-control. Teach them how to intentionally live life with generous dignity, and you change a generation.
2. When my best is not good enough.
Perfectionist, anyone? Me, too. People tell me, until they are blue in the face, "Just do your best." What do I do when I know my best was only half what I think my best is?
Look.
How arrogant do we really have to be to assume that the sky falling will or will not be our fault? In other words, is the world so fragile that I am in more control of it than my God? No. Get a grip. Take a breath. Repeat. Then...you do your best.
Wake up when it's time to wake up. Read a book when it's time to read a book. Brush your teeth together. Look at the amazing stick when it's presented. And be amazed. Count everything you can. Don't try to make yesterday--today. I have days where I can get up at 5, exercise, read my Bible, shower and have breakfast made (OK, this happened once, I think) by 8--and others where if my 2 year old sleeps until 8 I crawl in to bed with him and sleep. Until 8. Life is reading the moments and living them. Make a routine- and keep a schedule; just don't freak out if it beginss at a different time each morning. (This, of course, depends on the age of your kids, if they are in school, etc...) Wake up, eat, play. Start at 7, 7:20, or 7:56. You are not perfect. You are excellent.
3. Should I go back to work?
(Reminder of previous disclosure, for some women, yes. This is you. There is not one correct mold. I am not judging.)
Most days I think I focus on catching the "firsts." But, I miss the lasts. If I am doing the dishes I will say, "No I cannot hold you." (And, kids need to hear that sometimes the answer is no.)
But what if tomorrow you don't ask me to hold you? What if all of a sudden tomorrow is the day you are a kid, and not a baby, and you don't want me to hold you? What day was it that you no longer needed me to help you walk? What day was it that you could hold a cup on your own? How do we parents balance all of this? I mean, a dirty kitchen makes me very crazy inside...so...
We use our judgement. We have them help with the dishes (bonus--use it while we can). Basically, what I mean is, we let our toddlers think they are helping with the dishes and we clean the mess afterwards.
For me, personally, I wonder every single day if I am squelching my kids. Do you really think we can live our entire lives this way? Wondering what we did right or wrong? Now, I get it. Do your best.
For me, when it came to daycare, I had to ask myself how I would feel if I picked my baby up in a different outfit and I didn't know the story. Was it play-doh? The spaghetti at lunch? Did you get hurt? And it broke my heart to know that I wouldn't know the story behind a new outfit.
I get this wrong every day, and I go to sleep knowing that I get to try again tomorrow. Somewhere inside I think...if I do nothing else right today or tomorrow, they're gonna' know that I love them to the bones.
