It’s time to come clean: I haven’t been all that content, or happy, or joyous lately. Chalk it up to the kids being home all day downstairs, while I try to work in “peace” upstairs, and hope and pray the new sitter is OK on her own.
The result: It’ s been a long grueling summer, and there’s a long way to go yet. And, oh yea, I’ve been sort of depressed, like weeping on my sleeve, “oh poor me”, “why God why” depressed.
Then I came back to myself and figured a few things out. My depression was the cause of my guilt being cleansed out and another level of acceptance taking it’s place.
I don’t want you to get this wrong: I love my kids. But the temptation was too great: What if they were typical, and I thought on it for a second, and Jesus, the pain was crushing. Then I spiraled into despair. Why can’t Zoe just say what she wants? Why can’t I understand Amelia? Why can’t this just be easier – NOT easy, just easier?
You know what I can’t stand? I can’t stand when we take the kids somewhere and after that, all I get is, “Man you guys have your hands full!”, “Wow, how do you do it?”, and “Are you ok today? I see what it takes to raise those kids?” That makes me feel like my kids are horrible. I know that’s not the spirit or intention, but it does feel that way. Then that leads to, “Well, they’re not that far behind, so it must be my crap ass parenting skills.” And that’s an easy sell for me, because in addition to being a woman, an Italian, raised Catholic, and being a working mom, my natural acumen for guilt is further amped by the fact that before I met Chris, I did not want to have kids. Babysitting my way through high school along with already having nephews & nieces by then cured me of thinking kids were anything but mostly a challenge. Then I dang went and fell in love, and the rest is history.
But here on this Christian path, or really, on any Godly path I’ve discovered, guilt is only for the bad things you’ve actually and mostly intentionally done. Guilt is not for “I tried my best and failed” nor for “my kids are not perfect”. And even real guilt is disolvable if you’re a real Christian.
Once I washed away my guilt (and it took all those tears), new tears came, the tears of “as good as is it gets”. THAT is a whole level of acceptance all unto itself.
Then, yesterday, in the sermon, my pastor mentioned my child repeating the words and action, verbatim, to “Ice Age 3“. For him, it was a blessing, and that opened my eyes. As a parent, it’s just that darn echolalia. For him, it was her ability to memorize, to entertain, to throw herself unflinchingly into performance. At that, more tears fell (hopefully we’re done with them), but this time they were tears of peace. My kids are what they are, and they are good. God made them perfectly, and I get that…
…until the next time I don’t.
Do you struggle with your child’s struggles? Even if he or she is not disabled, is a consistent poor showing at something cause for pain? And is guilt easier than acceptance? How do you cope with it – I could really use some pointers!
Jenny says
When my daughter was little, I got compliments on how well behaved she was, how quiet, how thoughtful. My niece, on the other hand, is a major handful and my sister can barely deal with it. Sometimes she lashes out at her daughter, and I have to draw her aside and remind her that patience is a virtue. I think she wants to punch me in the eye because I can’t even begin to understand what she goes through.
As for guilt, my philosophy has always been: “Guilt is a wasted emotion.” Much like regret, it serves to only make us resonate in that sad, lonely place.
I think the fact that despite your struggles, you are aware and reaching out is a testimony to your amazing status as a mother.
Jenny says
When my daughter was little, I got compliments on how well behaved she was, how quiet, how thoughtful. My niece, on the other hand, is a major handful and my sister can barely deal with it. Sometimes she lashes out at her daughter, and I have to draw her aside and remind her that patience is a virtue. I think she wants to punch me in the eye because I can’t even begin to understand what she goes through.
As for guilt, my philosophy has always been: “Guilt is a wasted emotion.” Much like regret, it serves to only make us resonate in that sad, lonely place.
I think the fact that despite your struggles, you are aware and reaching out is a testimony to your amazing status as a mother.
admin says
Hi Jenny, thanks. I appreciate that. My Amelia was the same, but I’m not sure if it’s because me and Chris are so frazzled, or because of the constant tantruming Zoe seems to have now adapted, or because Type A children really DO NOT belong stuck inside for most of the summer, but she too has become quite a handful. (She thinks she’s mini-Mommy, which sounds good, but is actually a problem, lol!)
Yes, I’m done with guilt, although, I seem to recall saying that before…
admin says
Hi Mary! Well, I can completely relate. I do hug and kiss them daily, and tell them how much I love them and how precious they are. Yea, I do hope they hold that in their heart over the crummy parenting days I have (we all have them, no guilt, just reality). Thanks for sharing.
Connie says
Oh, gosh. My children are not disabled, but I find myself repeating the process of acceptance for different reasons – my boys have no living grandparents left, we have no family that supports us the way I wish they would, etc etc. It takes me to the breaking point, I cry and cry and sob like my heart is broken. I journal. I exercise. Whatever feels right, I do.
And then, another level of acceptance comes.
You are not alone, friend.
admin says
Hi Connie. You have a good point here! I have cried over some of those things, as well. My mom passed away a year and a half ago, so it’s the same. No ever said this parenting journey would be so hard, right? But then again, you can’t beat the perks.
Thanks, it’s good to know others share this road. 🙂
Donald Urquhart says
No matter what, you’ve got to remember that you do the very best that you can every day. As long as you love your children and you constantly strive to do what is best for them, then you are being a good parent. Our children don’t need perfect parents, if they did then the whole human race would be up a creek without a paddle. They do need parents who consistently try, who are always looking for new and better ways to teach, to love and to parent. Most of all, they need parents who love them, not who those parents wish their children would be. While every parent feels guilty from time to time about their child’s actions or abilities, it’s important to remember that you need to love the child the way he or she is.
admin says
Thanks for visiting mom-blog, Donald! I completely agree. Some days that “best” doesn’t look like much, when we parents are sick or dealing with problems, but we do the best we can. That’s important. It’s also important to look at how many children grew up to be fine people, despite having imperfect parents!
And I do love my kids, just as they are 🙂