I consider myself a fairly mentally healthy person, however, this motherhood thing affords such opportunity for guilt. After a week of: a new daycare schedule, a doctor's appointment, the kids discovering our kitchen cabinets and their exciting, throwable contents, Christmas boxes to be packed, I could feel it--a sour mood spiraling into....
"Why didn't Hubby put the toys away? He was up ten minutes earlier than me!"
"Bear, do you have to shriek so loud?"
"My back is so stiff. I'm getting old."
My husband, attempting to cheer me up, reminded me of a time when I didn't know if I would have kids, where this type of scenario would be a dream come true. I wasn't feeling it.
I finally cracked this morning when the kids' babbling and shrieking made me miss an important segment on the Today show---hopes for Michelle Obama revitalizing a sagging fashion industry. Standing in the kitchen, hair a mess, pajamas mismatched, I needed her style, her cool, her J. Crew ensembles. Because maybe, just maybe a little bit would rub off on me. But, alas, it was not to be, and in frustration, the "F" word slipped right out of me (loudly I might add). I was done. Finished. It was quiet, I turned to see two little faces looking up at me wide eyed from their high chairs, and I felt the guilt. Watching. Accusing.
"I bet Michelle Obama wouldn't do that."
A few minutes later, I received a call with an opportunity to leave the house for a few hours while J. (a trusted childcare person who now works at our office) watched the kids for the day. But as much as I had been wanting a break all morning, a sadness came over me when I thought of leaving them. Friday is my baby day. But as we spoke I heard the siren songs of Target and Costco (country moms are easy to please) and said "Yes". This time the guilt surprised me, it slipped in when I wasn't looking and took hold.
It turns out this opportunity is happening tomorrow instead, so I've had a chance today to sit and play with my children. Really play, not just pointing them in directions and letting them go. We all felt good. No shrieking, no clinging and no guilt.
I also ate a big bowl of popcorn and watched the Ellen show. C'mon, I'm not perfect!