I feel like I try so hard to be good mom but some days I just fail. The day that ends in a screaming fight. The hours that feels like a battle for supremacy. Mornings I want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head.
I fail because I am human and I have no idea what I am doing. Some moments I shame myself and don’t feel like being the adult. I forget to set the example. In my heart I want my little ones to grow up and be productive, happy, healthy people but my head tells me over and over… I am failing at it.
I yell too much and say things in the wrong way. At times I totally lose it, go in my bedroom, close then door and have my own little tantrum like I am the child. Don’t you ever get tired of telling them to put down that cookie or stop jumping on the couch? Sometimes I just do not feel like being the adult. But I am the mom.
Moments when I feel like I can’t get up off the couch again, do another load of laundry, and break up another argument. I start to disintegrate after I have clean the same area I have now cleaned for the 5th time that day. I just get tired. Mentally and physically.
Emotionally, there are times when my need so badly to control my children’s environment. The fear almost over powers me. If you would only do things my way, the way I want you to. I will be able to keep you safe, innocent. If you would just listen. But you are kids. It is in your nature to test your boundaries. It is nothing new to repeat something for the 9th time knowing I have not been heard. I just get tired, my edges worn down.
Sometimes the push back gets to be to much. My need for control takes over and I try to fit square pegs into round holes. Try to shove my wants into may kids. Making them who I want them to be instead of who they are. This is my biggest fail time and again.
There are so many threats, so many people looking to steal their innocence. To rob them of childlike goodness. I fight in vane to stay vigilant and keep the threats away. Swatting at them with paper swords… it is all for nothing.
My grip has slipped and I can not longer defend against it. Desperately I try to shield my children with my own body. Not realizing that ultimately the only one who can defend against this enemy is themselves.
I must put the sword in your hand. That is my job. I need to let you stand and fight. My fear is that you won’t…and I will have to watch you get hurt. Knowing I could have stopped it.
I know I need to step back. To let you fail, to learn and overcome if that is what is meant to be. Instead I keep failing as your mom, keep overstepping and over reaching. Yes, you are clothed , feed, have a roof over your head but how do I give you guidance when I feel like I am always doing it wrong? Shouldn’t I know more by now? Shouldn’t I have more of the answers? Frequently I have none and make it up as I go. Feeling that I fail more often them I can count.
Were is the wisdom that was suppose to come with these crows feet? Where is the grounded strength I should feel from the added weight on my hips? I only feel more ignorant and unbalanced, weighted down by my parental ineptitude.
Less prepared for each day, less able to protect you. To help you. To control things. My heart breaks. Talking to other mom’s they seem so secure, so confident that they are doing it right. Is that an act? Do they have the answers I don’t or are they just better at hiding there failures.
There was a time I loved being a Mom. It made me feel special, important to a little person, loved and able to give love. I felt like a million dollars. Floating on air. I raced home each day to see my babies, hold them love them. So full of love.
Lately, I feels like a battle where I am left in pieces. Attacked on all fronts. More often them not, I am losing. I have no strategies, no techniques. Only want to get through the day without feeling like a failure.
I know no one is a perfect mom. Inside my head I still strive to be and fall so far short. Even though I know it is unrealistic the feeling is there and it makes me feel awful. But there are other feelings too. The feeling of those little arms around me, telling me “Mommy I love you.” Those little moments where I feel like I have done O.K. Maybe I won’t screw them up too much. In the end all I can do is love them.