Mom Guilt 101

Recently I was talking to a friend about a strange requirement of her son’s classroom: Buying food for the classroom pet.  None of the other parents were signing up for the weekly spots and she felt obligated to fill in the gaps.  The guinea pig’s fate lay in her hands.  But not really.  We joked that the combo of 1. Being raised in the Bible-belt and 2. Attending a conservative Baptist university caused guilt to be our default setting.  Our go-to parenting emotion.

I KNOW we are not alone.

Single moms.  Working moms.  Stay-at-home moms.  Moms of multiple kids.  Moms of only children.  Adoptive moms.  Foster moms.  Step moms.  Moms who have lost children.  Moms of prodigals.  Widowed moms.  Ailing moms.  Divorced moms.  Moms of differently-abled children.  Expectant moms.  We ALL have one thing in common: Guilt over our choices.

And the above list doesn’t even account for specific pressures like cultural or familial expectation, race, and certain professions; all factors which could contribute to a household’s  already overflowing load.  No wonder so many mamas are walking around with hunched shoulders, staggering under the weight of the world….or their own self-imposed list of demands.

Social media has turned parenting into a terrible game show of Compare and Compete.  Our opinions are loud, right, and final.  One-upmanship is the norm.  Pictures only showcase our gleaming successes.  And this is the environment many moms “retreat” to in the midst of their hectic days.  Oh sisters, what kind of toxicity are we perpetuating here?  Everyday shaky, tired, insecure mommies are blasted with new reminders of what they aren’t doing, what they should be doing, or what you’ve already done.  Not to mention that much of what is featured online is only 5% of the picture, the sweet “Awww” part of the story.  The harder 95% of life stuff gets swept under the rug because it’s too real; it *may* paint us in an unflattering light.  So mamas are forced to live in the adorable, dear, bubbly 5 percent, while 95% of their selves are starving to connect in a meaningful way.

That’s why when someone gives us a peek at their honest (perhaps a little ugly) 95%, we moms respond IN SPADES.  Consider this post I saw shared by several friends on Facebook:

Courtesy of Crystal Smith Henry.  Visit her blog: hereggsmybasket.blogspot.com

Bless it.  If you are a mom, I see you vigorously nodding your head and cheering, “YES, this!!”  We need more of THIS.  It’s why these gems of everyday, genuine confessions get passed around among mothers like water bottles on a hot summer afternoon.  We are parched and exhausted from existing in the 5% fantasy world, when our real lives consist of boogers, tantrums, and sleepless nights.  But through normalizing these “water bottle” admissions, we allow moms to baby step their way towards shared honesty and away from the destructive cycle of competitive parenting.

Some parenting triumphs: Laundry basket as baby carrier, the "Head in Pitcher" incident, high heels + air guitar,

Broken collarbone on day 1 of summer vaca, chip clip on nose dare, OH and the time he ate celery.

However, the fear of judgment over our choices -or worse- the fear about making the wrong choices for our children can stop us in our tracks.  This is SO me.  I am cursed with the “Grass is always greener” mentality.  We’re talking everything from choosing an ice cream flavor to deciding on an adoption agency to decorating our house.  Once I’ve made my choice, I’m certain it wasn’t the best option.  Actually, it was probably the worst one.  Or maybe it was fine.  I don’t even know anymore!  And the mental aerobics that go into making a BIG decision regarding Elijah are even more intense.  Fuhgeddaboudit.  Worry leaves me stalled out and clueless over any forward movement.  Lysa Terkeurst calls this “Analysis Paralysis” in her amazingly relevant book, “The Best Yes: Making Wise Decisions in the Midst of Endless Demands.”  She views making any decision through a biblical lens, a “desiring to please God” mindset.  But I think even for the less religious of us, her words can be pertinent.  Simply substitute “strive to attain your child’s best interests” for the Jesus-y stuff.  Or if you’re cool with both interpretations (like me), you get the dynamic duo of the following passage’s application:

    “….Here’s a secret answer you must know when trying to pick the perfect choice: there is no perfect choice.  And if you understand this, it will set you free from the fear of making a mistake.  As long as you desire to please God {strive to attain your child’s best interests} with your decisions, no decision you make will be completely awful.  Nor will any decision you make be completely awesome.  Every decision is a package deal of both.  Every thrill has an element of risk.  Every leap of faith has moments of uncertainty.  And every great success story has elements of failure.  In other words, since there is no perfect choice, I don’t have to be paralyzed by the fear that I’m not making the exact right decision.”

Amen, right?  That paragraph was Braveheart’s yell of “FREEEEEDOM” for me.  Because with Elijah’s best interests at heart, I CAN make informed, wise decisions.  The right decisions for MY child (even if they look different from other families’ choices).  And I don’t need elevate my decisions in front of others in order to justify their value.  These are individual conclusions, based on specific life choices, values, and opinions.  They work for US.  Assuming others should force themselves into our personalized box of family credo is a lot like Cinderella’s stepsisters trying to cram their feet into that glass slipper.  Not. Pretty.  When something is especially tailored to us, it will never perfectly function for someone else.  Some elements may operate, but not at their fullest potential.  As you’ve certainly heard before, one size doesn’t fit all; one size fits one.

Moms spend an inordinate amount of time fretting the peripheral issues.  Yes, these issues may be important to us, but they should never eclipse the MAIN concern: Loving our child(ren).  And many could argue that by sweating the small stuff and agonizing over these less significant choices, we ARE loving our kids.  Okay, maybe.  But sometimes we get so tangled up in the politics and dynamics of making these decisions, our babies fall to the wayside.  We think “the perfect choice” (which Lysa T says doesn’t exist) will correctly demonstrate love to our child by giving them the best opportunity to succeed, live healthy, make friends, be educated, learn respect and kindness, and so on.  Baloney!  Not that you can’t make careful, wise choices because of your love for them, but that isn’t the same as showing love to them.  In closing, let me share a sweet video that proves my point.  Children were given the opportunity to write a letter to Santa and then one to their parents for Christmas.  Their words were simple but gripping and profound for the moms and dads.  Shockingly, there were no requests for an organic diet, public/private/or homeschool education, increased enrollment in extracurricular activities/clubs, or more high-end family vacations.  The kids boiled it down to the basics.  As parents, we’d do well to follow their lead.  Because what matters most to them is us.  Just us.  I can’t summarize any better than one mother, who tears up after reading the letter and says, “Imagine.  You want to give them the best you can...and the best is yourself.”  And there’s no guilt or shame in that.