The guilt cycle

Honestly, I believe that guilt is one of the many side effects of estrogen.

Many of us berate our own mothers for the guilt trips they bestow on us, but we don’t need their help—we do just fine creating our own guilt complexes, thank you.

For me, it started in January, when I took on a new job. I am a freelance writer who works from home, and I landed a new gig as the editor of a quarterly magazine based out of Janesville. It’s a wonderful opportunity for me, but it means that I am working about twice as much as I was before. Tyler, who is 2, is not impressed by my need to be on the phone and the computer more often. He responds by choosing to be his most obnoxious and disobedient self when I am on the phone. Or, as I am fervently writing and editing to meet a deadline, he begs in that oh-so-cute voice, “Mommy, please play with me!”

Could you resist a “please” without feeling like a shrew?

Then, two weeks ago, I came down with what one healthcare professional called “the crud”—a hacking cough and terrible chest congestion. For a good portion of last week, I was miserably lying on my couch with my eyes closed while Tyler crawled on top of me pleading, “Mommy, please wake up! The sun is up!”

I think perhaps the guilt stems from some misguided notion I have of the “perfect mom.” You know—the one who spends all day reading stories, creating crafts, playing with toys and making up games. She doesn’t get sick or have any work to do because…well, she’s perfect. She instead focuses every bit of her energy on her child.

Not one of us is even close to the perfect mom. So instead of concentrating on what we’re NOT giving our children, we have to instead think about what we ARE giving them. In my case, though I am sometimes working or sick, I still am providing for Tyler’s basic needs, giving him love and attention and teaching him new things every day. I think that counts for something, don’t you?

So goodbye, guilt!

--Beth

A revelation

Would you believe it only just occurred to me a few days ago that parenting doesn’t get any easier as your children grow older?

The thought came to me after I had just finished chasing down my 2-year-old to put his coat on for the car. As I manhandled him into the garage, I wondered what I would do when I was no longer able to overpower him—or, even, to pick him up so easily. I would actually have to convince him to walk out of the house of his own volition. Gulp.

I think I had always pictured motherhood becoming much easier once Tyler is able to take care of himself, more or less. In my imagination, that “magic age” was about 5 or 6. Suddenly, our caregiver/caregivee relationship would morph into one similar to that of roommates—cohabitants of the same house. He would play quietly in his corner of the house and I would do my own thing in my corner.

Except, I forgot that the older Tyler becomes, the more he cares about what he does, who he sees, what he wears and where he goes. And, the older he becomes, the more power he has to make my life miserable—particularly in public.

Then again, I have the power to make his life miserable, too. The older he is, the better able he is to understand consequences of not listening. That, I think, is where the Love & Logic concept—offering kids a choice between doing something they should be doing or doing something decidedly more unpleasant—has a lot of merit. Of course, if he chooses the unpleasant thing—having toys taken away, going to school in his pajamas, etc.—I have to actually follow through with it.

It all sounds like so much work! I guess this is what everyone meant when they said that parenting is one of the hardest jobs you will ever do.

Then again, in what other job do you get to hear a little guy tell you, after a day away from you, “Mommy, I missed you!”

--Beth