Mom Guilt: It’s All Your Fault
The school year is rapidly approaching and already I’m working myself into a panic over the things that haven’t gone wrong yet. I’m looking towards the mornings when I forget their lunch money, when they're late to school or when I forget to sign a permission slip (or two or three).
It’s inevitable that I’m going to make some mistakes this school year and it’s just as foreseeable that I’m also going to lose my cool, yell, throw a mommy temper tantrum and burn dinner or get harried in the day and forget about dinner completely (cereal for dinner anyone? I’ve got Cheerios!)
Regardless of what situations sneak up on me through the rest of this year (and next) there will come some hefty doses of stink eye from the kids, a sigh from the husband, and the not verbalized but visually implied look of “you don’t care about me” when something doesn’t turn out exactly the way it was planned or worked out in my head or theirs.
It’s called guilt.
We get it from mothers.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at things, our mothers only PASS us the guilt gene. We do the rest from there.
That’s right. I’m telling you right here and now that the level of guilt you have, it’s entirely your own doing and your own fault. (How’s that for laying on the guilt?)
You see, we put immense pressure on ourselves (I think I mentioned that before in another post). We have this uncanny ability to make a mountain out of a molehill, to find problems where there really are none, and to assume that all eyes are on us when we are the ONLY person in the room.
The bottom line, it’s all in our heads. I mean, who really cares if you forgot your child’s lunch for the third time this school year (Pay no attention that school has only been in session for two weeks. That’s not the point). It’s a new year! It’s a routine we have to get back into. Yes, I know, we packed school lunches last year and the year before that but that was… Sheesh! Four months ago! Time has passed, the summer sun has baked our brains, sleeping in became a national pastime for some of us and if you went on vacation, your brain has been permanently altered to the sounds of “are we there yet?” and “I want to sit by the window”.
It’s all we can do to not beg our spouses to please sign the committal papers for the nut house. We are bound to lose a few screws somewhere along the way.
There’s no easy way out of the mommy guilt trap other than to ignore it (if you’re like me though, you’ll feel guilty for ignoring the guilt in the first place and that’s a whole other therapy bill).
Instead of ignoring it, I’ve owned up to the fact that I’m not perfect.
I’m fairly sure that one of my feet are bigger than the other and my ears are even pierced crooked so I’m chalking my mommy guilt up to just another one of my little imperfections that make me different, and yet the same as every other mom all at the same time.