Pity-Party

Sometimes when I look at Lily I am overwhelmed by the knowledge that I am responsible for her.  She is so amazing and has so much potential that I can't help fearing I am going to fail in helping her realize all that amazing potential.  Then I worry that I am pushing her too hard or expecting too much from her.  And I feel as if I am missing some of the enjoyment of motherhood by worrying about my own inadequacies.  I can't be a perfect mother.  I can't.  I constantly have to remind myself to stay calm and patient, even when I have a tired, cranky preschooler who seems to burst into tears for no reason at all.  Sometimes I lose the battle and yell at her, which just makes me feel worse.  Or I forget that she is three-years-old when she tells me she doesn't like me and let my feelings get hurt.  There are days when it is a chore just to get out of the house with her. 

Now, to keep this from being a full-blown pity party, I should mention that there are days when I feel like Super Mom.  I get myself and the bug bathed, fed and out of the house before 9 a.m., I finish all my errands, get some park and/or other quality time in with Lily and get home in time to do laundry and make dinner.  Of course, these days don't seem to come around nearly as often as the days I am swamped with feeling of inadequacy.  On those days I find myself bemoaning my lot, thinking (rather unfairly, I'm sure) "Why is this so much easier for everyone else?"  And on really bad days, I look at the yawning chasm between who I thought I would be and who I've become and think how pathetic it is that so many of my goals have been left unmet.  Instead of being the Yale lawschool grad clerking for a Supreme Court Judge, I am swanning about at home, not really contributing to the world at large (I told you, these were my bad days).

I have never worked harder in my life than I have at motherhood.  I get so tired and stretched to my limits that I feel like a good breeze will shatter me.  And yet, I feel so close to failure at times that I just want to cry.

Then I look at my daughter - at her beautiful, smiling, silly face - and I realize that there truly is no greater contribution I can make in this world than her life.  I've been criticized for fawning over her a bit too much, but I can't help it.  She makes me so proud to be her mother each and every day.  I can't even express how much I love her.   Not many of you know that when I found out I was pregnant with Lily, I bawled like a baby.  I didn't want to be pregnant and I was terrified of being a mother.  Now, three years later, I can't imagine my life without my daughter.

I know I am not a perfect mother and I never will be.  But I also know that all I can do is my best.  There will be days when I won't shower until 10:00 at night (and some days when I won't even manage that much).  There will be days when I feed my daughter Kraft mac & cheese and hot dogs instead of healthy meals with fresh fruits and veggies.  There will be days when I lose my patience with Lily and there will be days (lots of days, it seems) when I don't finish the laundry or the dishes.  But as long as my daughter knows, unequivocally and unconditionally, that I love her, then I'm going to count those days as successes.  Because, you know what?  No one manages stress and responsibility as well as a mother.  And yet, mothers are judged and critiqued so harshly by many people, including themselves.  I've realized that I can't expect my work and achievements as a mother to be recognized by others if I don't recognize them myself.