Mommy Guilt

It happened again.  I just sat down on the couch ready to dig into my oatmeal for the morning and Matthew (my son) came to me and said "Mom, I don't have any clean pants."  My mind raced back to the evening before when I knowingly went to bed thinking I would get up earlier than normal to do a load of laundry.  It didn't happen.  So here stood my son in his underwear and all of a sudden I was having a side of guilt with my oatmeal as I told him to go find the cleanest pair he could in the hamper.  This scenario has played out with my husband before too.  He has come to me and said "Honey, I don't have any clean underwear."  I usually tell him to go buy some more, wear mine, or go commando.  But in all seriousness...sometimes there is just so much to do in any ordinary day that guess what?  I drop the ball  sometimes.  The disclaimer here for all of you feminist is that yes, my husband does help me.  He is not allowed to do laundry.  It's not good people, it's just not worth it.  I paid him back one time by mowing the yard in a zig zag formation---we know our place, it works for us, and we love more deeply that way. 

Early on I set out to assemble the family I never had.  I didn't want a toxic home like the one I knew.  I didn't want my child to be crippled by his past.  I wanted him to have a better life than I did growing up.  I have heard so many parents say that.  Unfortunately that often just means more "stuff" which requires working more and spending less time together.  Enter guilt.  

So so many mornings I felt guilty having to go to work.  It didn't have to be that way.  I should have planned better, I should have been more wise with money then I wouldn't have to work.  I took this burden all on my shoulders for a very long time.  I was suppose to be the mom, I was suppose to stay at home and have the sparkling clean house and teach my kid foreign languages before preschool.  Enter guilt.

So many questions plague us mothers.  Did I spend enough time with him today?  Does he know how much I love him?  Have I completely screwed him up beyond recognition yet?  Have I taught him how to love?  Have I shown him how much I love his father?  Oh for the love of pete, did I check his homework?  Did I sign the 45 papers sent home so he doesn't flunk out of elementary? 

Did I really listen to him?  Did I really listen to the details of his day?  He wants to talk to me now...someday he won't.  Did I listen?  Did I hear what was important to him?  

My father did not listen to me.  I think that is one of my most haunting thoughts of him.  He never ever listened to me.  I hate that quality in people.  Did I say hate?  I mean hate.  You know that glazed look people get in their eyes when they cannot wait to spew out what they're thinking, instead of taking the time to digest what you just said?  That (among other things) was his trademark.  Sometimes, I feel that rising up inside of me, and it scares the tarnation right out of me.  It's all I've known.  Enter guilt. 

I have to remind myself of this when Matthew gives me a 45 minute dissertation on racing.  It wears me out.  Like, I don't care-I've heard it all already.  Just when I want to run around the yard screaming like a mad woman (because I just heard the same 45 minute dissertation from my husband) I have to take a breath and remind myself that this is important to him.  I need to listen.  

In great contrast to that, my husband is the best listener in the world.  When I talk to him, he makes me feel like the only person in the world.  I love that about him so much.  I really believe that one of the reasons Matthew seems to be able to talk to God so openly and honestly, is because he has a father who hangs onto his every word.  

Another open door to guilt is the thought that I only have one child.  I catch myself comparing myself to other mothers, or worse yet, being judged by other mothers with more than one child.  Why can't I do this well?  I only have ONE, how can you not take care of ONE? Why didn't anyone tell me it would be this hard?  

Ladies if you are trapped in the cycle of comparison--stop it.  Stop it right now.  Why are we so mean to each other?  We are suppose to help each other, and encourage each other.  No instead we try to one up each other and then wonder why our kids think they are suppose to "compete" in life.  It doesn't matter if you work in the work force, or work from home, whether you have one child, or 19, whether your kids go to public school or you homeschool--we are all still mothers!  No one is "better" than the other.  There is no biblical formula that we are all suppose to follow, God has called us all to different things.  I don't know why--it's the same reason God blessed us with a son with autism, while others have children with seemingly no problems--He knows best, and He knows what it will take in our lives to produce more love for Him, so just trust Him.  

Let me share with you something so beautiful---Jesus' family tree was so messed up.  His heritage included a liar, a prostitute, an adulterer, a murderer, a manipulator, etc.  Our pasts do not dictate our futures.  Maybe you grew up in a broken home.  You don't have to produce one.  Someone has to stop the cycle.  

Your heritage, your lineage may be filled with mistakes.  Nothing proud to speak of--much like our Savior's.  But, His blood can rescue you.  We have been given this gift of motherhood.  Matthew is not saddled with the weight of my past.  We are making his "past" as we speak.  

I'm so over guilt.  It does not go well with oatmeal.  

Cut yourself some slack.  We do not live in the generation of our grandmothers.  Life is different.  Your life will not look like hers.  Enjoy your children this Mother's Day.  Pray for other moms out there.  Tell them they're doing a good job.  They may need to hear it.  

I better go do some laundry ;)  

Happy Mother's Day!!!  You are all AWESOME!