For far too long I felt like I was the worst mother. Too often I compared myself to other mothers aro
und me. It seemed as though other mothers always were well groomed, smiling, and perfectly organized. I felt as thought we leap frogged from one crisis to the next.
Our youngest would get frustrated with transition. When she was home and would get upset she would yell, "I want to go back to Daycare!" I had to work outside our home. There were multiple reasons why that was necessary. Her teachers all told me what a perfect little angel this child was. It seemed as though she waited until coming home to be less than an angel.
Other mothers managed to cook delicious, nutritious meals that their family all ate with delight. I remember a time when I had finished cooking four different meals for the four in our family. One was diabetic, one was lactose intolerant, and one was just plain intolerant. As my limit of patience was reached and then surpassed I said stridently, "There is the bread, there is the peanut butter, there is the jam. If you don't like what I prepared, help yourself."
My parents both lived through the great American
Depression, and World War II. Food was precious and never to be wasted
in our home.I grew up with the clean plate policy. You ate the food that was placed in front of you...period. I once sat at the table for three hours. Mom had made salmon loaf. It is akin to meatloaf only made with canned salmon. I have always been highly sensitive to texture in food. In the can of salmon they included little bones that you could crunch right down. Mama used the bones to provide us with calcium. I'm certain that it was a great idea in theory. I didn't mind the taste of the loaf. Then one of those little bones would be in my mouth and I would gag. After three long hours Papa gave up on making me eat dinner.
My hubby grew up with similar rules towards eating. He loved eating adventurously. The only thing he couldn't tolerate was when parents would eat food off their children's plates. For whatever reason that was one step too far for him.
We determined that we would not force our children to clean their plates. We did insist that they had to try one bite. There were times when the picky eater would try and bite and actually say, "That wasn't so bad, may I have more?" The other thing that I learned is that if I repeated foods that weren't appreciated initially, down the road the food would seem more familiar.
These are just small examples of my experiences as a Mama. I wasted a lot of years trying to be the perfect mommy. It took me far too long to understand that THERE IS NO SUCH CREATURE! We are all imperfect, flawed, AND IT'S OK! In fact, our children learn, not only from our strengths, but from our weaknesses.
I am not always impeccably groomed, my living space is often messy, and I often eat frozen meals. On the plus side, I love to sew, knit, dance, sing, walk, write, and read. My number one strength as a Mama, our children know with no doubts that I will always love them! I might not love a choice that they make, but there is nothing that they can do that will make me quit loving them!
If you are feeling overwhelmed today by the constant demands of parenting stop. Review any tender moments, a small hand in yours, a loving, "I love you mommy," watching your child learn how to smile, giggle, walk, dance, do math, sing, perform in sports, or further achievements. If it seems hopeless today that they will ever grow into decent human beings ask your parents about yourself as a child. Were you always neat, loving, patient, and obedient? No? There is hope that your children will manage to become loving human beings.
It has taken me 33 years but I no longer compare myself to other moms. In fact, I gain strength listening to other moms. If you feel like the world's worst mother, pat yourself on the back and say out loud, "I am doing fine. Motherhood is NOT about perfection. It IS about loving.
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