I don’t feel like a very good mom lately. I’m angry about all the things I can’t fix for Isa. I’m tired. I feel old. I feel beat down. In those moments, I tell myself I don’t deserve to be celebrated.
Mother’s Day is Sunday.
This post is for all of the parents who don’t feel good at this thing that we’re doing.
Today, I was a good mom. I woke up early to do some billing for my job, so that the kids could have my undivided attention during the crunch of getting ready for school. They would get a better breakfast. We would be more relaxed. They would hit the door of school ready to learn. Today, I was a prepared mom.
After kissing most of them goodbye, the two littles who are left with me got to play in the water table outside. It will be so messy. I’ll spend an hour combing and drying the dog because of all the water they will dump on him. But, they love it. They are little for such a short time. Today, I am a fun mom.
They ask for a picnic for lunch. I hate picnics. I hate the mess, and the hot sun. I hate that I won’t be able to eat because I’ll have to run in and out to get them everything they need. My soon-to-be Kindergartener asks for grilled cheese. At a picnic? Ugh. But, I make it, because soon there will be no more soon-to-be, she will be in Kindergarten, and I will miss these days so much. Today, I am a sentimental mom.
I mopped all the floors today while they dumped out every puzzle we own. Today isn’t mopping day, but there are doctor’s appointments for the rest of the week. It’s my only chance. I did it. Today, I am an organized mom.
The interpreter who interprets for my Deaf 6-year-old during the school year is going to interpret for her in summer school. YES! Today, I am an elated mom.
The hospital billing office called. They have no prior authorization for an appointment we have tomorrow, one that we have been anticipating for many weeks. I pretend to lose the call so that I can handle it myself. I won’t let them cancel this appointment. Today, I am an advocate mom.
The kids hit the door after school and I go through the house in reverse age order making sure they’ve all done their daily work, focusing on every area where their teachers told me they needed work during their recent parent teachers conferences. “Read the chapter and write me a brief summary.” “Here are this week’s math problems. Do the first 10 and then I’ll circle back. You can do it, I know you can!” Today, I am a diligent mom.
I finally sit down and pour myself a glass of wine. My teens have arrived home. My eldest daughter comes to me, running shoes in hand. “Will you do a couple of miles with me?” This is our only chance to be alone, to really talk, to connect. I put my wine in the fridge, grab my shoes and head out. Today, I am a fierce mom.
As we run next to the pond on our usual route, we pause for a moment. I tell her about a mom who messaged me today. She is going to help a child whose adoptive placement failed. I tell her about another mom who may have to hand her baby back to the mama who gave birth to her. I tell her about another mom whose daughter is in critical condition from the same heart defect that plagues her sister. I tell her about the mamas I know whose babies are in heaven this Mother’s Day. We cried. Today, I am a sad mom.
Then we prayed, because everyday, I am a faithful mom. And I want her to see that.
After dinner, when all the kids are in bed, my son comes to me as I’m crafting teacher appreciation gifts and asks “Is there anything I can do to help you?” I’ve got it, because he needs his rest, but, today, I am a grateful mom.
I need to hold onto this day. Not every day will be like this. I hope my kids will remember these days, and when they do it for their kids, know that they are good parents too. I am a good mom. I need to hold onto that too.
–FullPlateMom, who wants you to hold onto that too.