As a mother, there is a seemingly endless list of things to beat yourself up about. I have the good fortune of being someone who carries guilt around forever. In my attempt not to pass this trait on to my son – which I would never be able to forgive myself for – I have been trying really hard to put things in perspective.
I noticed that when I spent evenings after work frantically cleaning my house and getting ready for the next morning, and I would feel guilty for not playing with my son, during the few hours we do have together. So I started to wait until Luke went to bed to do all the chores and then I had no time for myself and time with my husband. One night when I was searching for the green monkey pajama shirt to go with the matching shorts he had on and I found them in the hamper, I realized that my son sleeps just as peacefully in a surfboard shirt and monkey shorts as he does in matching jammies. My babysitter did not even comment when we showed up at her house, fresh out of bed with his hair in complete disarray and wearing mismatched pajamas. And although my four year old niece would disagree, there is no major difference between clothes and pajamas. It is definitely better to let the laundry pile up than to waste playtime with my toddler.
This may sound like common sense to some people, but I had to be coached not to feel bad about not knowing what was wrong with my infant son when he was crying. I think telling him that the TV is broken to avoid having to watch yet another episode of “The Wiggles” is a forgivable offense. But I have to remind myself that it is ok to feel angry, or sad, or overwhelmed, as long as I don’t take it out on Lucas. I’m not cured, but I’m doing much better. The Catholic guilt will always be a part of me, but I am learning to control it so my son is not so neurotic. I may not be perfect, but I am doing my best, and that allows me to sleep peacefully - most of the time.
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