When I compared myself to other young moms, I began to wonder if something was wrong with me. I noticed that I never rushed up to 'the circle' to hold a new office addition, frequently named something that ends with an "EN" sound, (Aiden, Caiden, Braedon, Kaelin, etc...). Why do I cringe, close my right eye, and scoot on past when mommies squeal with delight at a toddler's pink, sparkly outfit? Why do I hate the word, BINKY, refusing to ever use it in my home?
I tried to be "a good mom." I jumped on the victimization bandwagon of all Americanized baby marketing. I remember back in the 'old days,' there were plenty of sales people at Babies-R-Us to explain why I needed an entire layette. What is heck is a layette?
I discovered very quickly that I did not fit in with the other moms. I despise preschool music and coo-coo hand games. My children listened to Dream Theater alongside me. I explained the instruments and how tight the rhythms were. I discovered that I hated mommy-n-me time at various money-sucking locations such as Gymboree Gym. Like a Party City lemming, I handed over all my money to plan over-the-top birthday celebrations for my first son; parties that the other moms would certainly be jealous of because of my exorbitant amount of creativity. (WOW! And this was before Pinterest exsisted). That is when I found out that many small children cannot stand the over-stimulation of music, colors, and junk food. For my gentle child (and his friends), a birthday party is his hell, covered in stripes, polka dots, and icing with evil Red #40.
I tried to be "a good mom." Listening to moms compare heights, weights, and walking triumphs shut me down as a human being for many years. In the baby years, I became a recluse because I was so worried I would be asked those inevitable questions, "OH! Is she walking yet?" "OH! Is she potty trained yet?" It is no one's business at the playground what my children were or were not doing.
That's when I realized that young moms may not know what to talk about except for their children. Perhaps that is why I felt so alone. I wanted to push my children on the swings and talk about the election. I wanted to talk about how that mom felt about the new water tax in the neighborhood. Instead, I was never able to venture out without someone interviewing me on my children's milestones.
Various scenarios involving small children nauseate me. One may examine my subtle body language of contempt in various outings:
*Babies whose mommies continually stuff their soft, pink faces with snacks as a way to control behavior in a store.
*Babies whose mommies squeal, "Oh you're so cute!" in a restaurant when Jr. is covered from hair to neck in BBQ sauce. No, mommy, he is not cute. He is 15 months old and perfectly capable of learning how to use his fork correctly. There are plenty of babies whose moms refuse to allow them to throw, drop, or wear food all over.
*Toddlers anesthetized by Nintendo Dsi. Nothing more to say there.
Is something wrong with me? Am I the only mom who believes that manners and behavior are possible and expected, even from the youngest people? (Well, besides my sister, who watched a four-year-old continually lick the conveyor belt at Target and mom did absolutely nothing).
I AM a good mom. I am the happiest I have ever been. My children are 7, 9, 12, and 18. Our day begins with hugs, help, and happiness. Our deep conversations bless car rides to activities that the whole family enjoys. My children wipe their own bums, wash their hair, do their laundry, and tell me about their hopes, dreams, and fears. We can water-ski, snowboard, and ride quads together. My squeals of delight come when my children provide detailed accounts of their day, sitting on the kitchen counter while I cook dinner. I am no longer held captive by diaper bag packing, car seat checking, and constant use of my breasts as someone else's food source.
I know that I am an amazing mom. I spent so many years feeling completely alone, that I did not know how long I could last. We are now in the big kid stage. Upon venturing out, the new moms I meet are secure with themselves. They are working moms, homeschooling moms, and moms who don't need to talk about their children 24/7. I finally have other women in my life who will talk about algebra, vacations, and backyard landscaping. My babies are now young people. Our family is filled with talking, dreaming, and learning together.
I have a message for ALL moms. Maybe you're like me and felt bad because you did not like the baby years. Maybe you feel the opposite way and you are hurting because you miss your children being babies. No matter what mom guilt you have, make the choice today to let that go. We all do the best we can. Our kids will grow up to be fantastic people.
Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Romans 8:1.
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