Mom Guilt: Try Again Tomorrow

“The days are long, but the years are short.”

Some nights, I lie in bed and cry about the length of the day and my failure to seize it. Other nights I cry at how quickly the years have passed. It is bittersweet and often riddled with guilt. I swear to myself that I will hold them more while they will let me, work on chores and eating habits, and not lose my temper. I just want them to know I am trying my best. But sometimes, I just KNOW that I am failing and one of them is bound to need a therapist who blames me for everything. Thank-you, 3am mom guilt.

I’ll try harder tomorrow.

Having three kids is hard. Having two preschool age kids and a baby is harder. The baby needs a lot. The older kids want constant action. I fail someone. Gone are the days of sending the older kids out into the neighborhood until dark and raising the baby in peace. So I try to be fair. But, add in everyone’s outdoor allergies and how I really don’t like being outside anyway, and inside wins more than my mom guilt would like.

But, I’ll try harder tomorrow.

Cooking and cleaning with three kids is a hard balance, too. My mom guilt tells me how many times in a week they have eaten chicken nuggets. It also tells me about the messes I’ve let go, and about the dog shedding (If you love dog hair as much as I do, get a Corgi. They only shed twice a year, for 6 months at a time and the fur seems to be the baby’s favorite attempted snack…). While I am cleaning, my mom guilt tells me that I only have 18 summers with my kids and how much screen time they have had for the day. While I make baby food or chicken nuggets and adult food, it reminds me that Skylar still won’t touch a veggie and I should really work harder on that. Days like those, really suck.

But, there is always tomorrow.

I will never be a Pinterest mom. My imagination is lacking and those elaborate birthday parties and showers make me anxious. I don’t know how they do it. I will never be a crunchy mom. The family cloth and vegan diets… Congrats to the laundry dedication of those women. Mine is enough. It takes me like a week and a sacrificial lamb to get it done. I will never be a marathon mom. If you ever see me running, you should run too. The world might be ending. But for every mom I will never be, I am still just like them. We are all doing what works for us. We are all juggling self-care with family and everything else.

In those dark moments, I also often think about how much harder all this would be if I was single or working. I think about the judgment all moms get and how we really are our own worst critics. Making the judgments is just affirmation in our heads that we are somehow failing.

And with that, I shake it off and remind myself that I am not being graded. Most days my kids and house are acceptably clean. Every day I feed my kids. Every day I tell my kids I love them and I mean it. Every day I am aware of the immense responsibility I have to raise adults that aren’t horrible. Every day I wake up determined to try and be the best mom. Some days I am just okay, and that is okay. Guilty conscience be damned.

I can try again tomorrow.