It’s easy at the end of a tough day to rush to my keyboard – fingers abuzz, eyeballs soaked with tears – and blog out every last parenting doubt, fear, and seemingly insurmountable challenge that I neither have the courage, nor the tenacity to tackle in that moment.
I’ve blogged for advice, blogged for reassurance, and blogged to sort out my feelings. You’ve listened, understood, offered advice and gave virtual hugs when I needed them most. I tried, failed, prayed, cried, and tried again all in the hope that one day I might actually believe that I was doing right by my kids, or at the very least, OK by them.
When you go through motherhood riddled with self-doubt, you begin to view every challenge as yet another nail in the coffin of your maternal ability. I know it sounds stupid, but if you’ve ever once thought, “If I knew what I was doing, this wouldn’t be happening!” then you know what I’m talking about.
But yesterday, as I penned yet another note to BooBoo’s teacher, I realized something kind of huge: Challenges are inherent in motherhood, and not for a moment an indicator as to whether or not I’m cut out for the job. Mind = blown.
But wait, there’s more! With this realization came an even greater epiphany: I’m actually a pretty good mom.
Talk about a bold statement just begging for an opposing view! Hey, I know it’s a subjective and strangely conceited-sounding thing to say, but I’m going with it, you guys, for a whole bunch of reasons:
A pretty good mom cares.
A pretty good mom tries.
A pretty good mom makes connections.
A pretty good mom is always there.
All a pretty good mom needs is a sense of what’s right and wrong, to teach her children well, and expect the best from what her kids have to offer.
I do those things. I have those things. And guess what? So do you. We’re good-mothering every single day, and it’s high time we recognize it.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that this blog post serves as a long overdue apology to myself. I’m sorry for ever doubting my ability or dedication to this job. I’m sorry for beating myself up for being human, and most importantly, I’m sorry for ever thinking I needed to be more than I was.
If you’re able to hear what my heart is clumsily saying, I ask that you join me in a moment of personal forgiveness and maternal affirmation. We’re pretty good moms, you guys. And we always were.