I’ve gone on record here a few times saying I think two children is enough for us. A lot of it is because I don’t feel a need for more kids, I don’t feel like we’re incomplete. A lot of it is because I don’t know that I have it in me to take three little ones through the years of early childhood.
Being around in the parenting blogosphere means seeing mothers who are not just good at what they do but who enjoy it with every ounce of their being. I see mothers who swoon over their babies, their toddlers, their preschoolers. They do not want them to grow up. They do not want them to go to school. They want them at home, with them, all day every day.
I’ve long ago made peace with the fact that that is not me. And I’m trying my best to still be a good parent to my kids right now. People tell you things like, “You’re the best parent for your child.” They can say that, but I can’t help but think that at this stage right now with someone else they’d get more. More doting, more play, more interaction, more hugs, more everything.
It’s particularly hard now when we’re just coming off of a vacation week from school where Graham was home all the time. Tessa and I were sick, I spent days fighting off a horrific toothache, but that child and his energy were there all the time and the more I needed a break, the less likely he was to give me one. A couple of times I broke and said, “Give me some space,” which probably doesn’t mean much to a 3-year-old. He responded by getting closer and asking to sit on my lap.
I spent plenty of hours last week with Graham on my lap, which means watching Tessa from the couch and letting the mess remain as it is. It was not a clean week at our house. He wanted school, I wanted school, but we were stuck with each other and we made do.
So no, I’m not perfect. Nobody is, right? I try to tell myself that those other mothers who are so happy with their lot have their own shortcomings. We all do.
Part of what helps me feel okay with my own limitations is knowing that my day will come.
I don’t know when it will be exactly. I don’t know how it will manifest. But somewhere along the way I will find my sweet spot.
Maybe it will be helping with math homework. I am good at teaching and I miss it. Maybe it will be helping my kids find ways to learn over summer break when they have too much time on their hands.
Maybe it will be reading our way through the library together. I love books and I’ve been buying books for my kids since before I knew who their father would be. Perhaps it will be when they’re learning to read, maybe it will be a tradition for us to lay down together and read chapter books.
Maybe it will be working through the trials of teenage-dom. Maybe I will be the mother who dotes on her teenagers the way others do on their babies. Maybe I will be that mother whose teenager says she’s their best friend.
Maybe it will be something I’ll never see coming, something I never knew I had in me.
But it will be something. When my kids are grown, they will look back and think of things I did for them that meant something to them, just like I do about my mother.
I don’t know yet how it will shake out. I will have to watch them grow and do my best and wait for my moment to come. For now, I won’t turn myself into something I’m not. I will be myself, the mother I am as best I can.
Damn it. You made me cry this morning.
I am waiting for my sweet spot too. I feel it when I am in IEP meetings, or teacher conferences…but I have yet to feel it with my kids. That feeling of I have this right and it feels good. And every once in a while I get a glimpse of it with one kid. But never all three at once.
Sigh.
There’s this woman I know – she has a baby, her first. Ever since she was pregnant, she was so crazy, happy, blissful. As a mom, she is ever so blissful still – her child is her world, he is perfect in every way & her world is perfect. She’s said that she knows she’s a good mom & her life has meaning it never had before. She also has perfect makeup & hair, plus dresses & accessorizes well. She kind of makes me want to barf sometimes. I have to hold myself back so hard from typing or making little puke sounds. Yack.
For me, life is not blissful & beautiful a lot of the time. I find it very hard to relate to too much of that. I mean, I don’t want to hear bitching from everyone all the time – I want parents to love & respect & adore their children – but admit that sometimes, it’s crazy stressful & exhausting.
I love my son – he is my world & my world revolves around his ever swinging moods. Unless my bladder is full or a limb is falling asleep, I am quite content to have him cuddle on my lap endlessly. I can read to him until I’m hoarse without minding at all. But I totally suck at play. I get incredibly antsy. Legos, Play-Doh, trains – not my thing. I am hoping one day to find something he likes to play with that I will feel comfortable & enjoy playing as well. If he still wanted to do puzzles & shape sorters & stuff like that – I could probably manage – but this little boy stuff? Lost. So, mostly, my husband is the person who does the real play. I sit on the couch & watch until I’m needed. I feel like crap about it, like I’m not doing my share, but I just can’t seem to figure it out. Weird?
I know my mom has said that although she loves babies & they’re adorable, etc., she enjoyed being a mom more when she could really communicate with me & my brother, talk with us & sort of reason with us. My mom is awesome, in my book – and I’m not offended that she found me more enjoyable as I got older. So I say, there’s nothing wrong with thinking your kids are awesome now & sometimes fun too – but they might be even more on your page later.
Sorry for rambling. Again.
I look back at when my girls were 3 and 6 with great fondness for that time although I do also remember the days were long – really long. You are a great mom and every age will have it’s own highlights, eventually.
Nancy recently posted..Can you climb to the top?
Typing on ipad – auto correct its!
I don’t think those other mothers enjoy it with EVERY ounce of their being. Maybe they don’t write about it, but there must be a couple ounces that could use a break sometimes. I know I could.
Jenn @ Something Clever 2.0 recently posted..Gay Rights, Chicken and Fireballs
I felt guilty, when my second son was born, because though I loved him both sweetly and ferociously, I didn’t enjoy watching him as much as I had my firstborn. When my older son was born, I hadn’t ever spent much time with an infant. I was memorized by his every move. But by the time my second came along, my older boy was already a toddler, walking and talking, entertaining us… I loved watching my sweet baby, but I realized that I enjoy parenting more the older they get. I hope that keeps up as they get older and older.
Robin Jingjit recently posted..10 things I’ll never buy at Tops Supermarket
I think even mothers who love babies/toddlers struggle, too. I often worry that I’m not doing enough – not playing with them enough, not crafting enough, not reading enough, not everything enough. We all just have to do the best we can and know that it really IS enough.
Dollops of Diane recently posted..A Week With the Preschool Puppy
Good for you. Not every parent likes every stage. Perfect Husband HATED the baby stage, but he is much better with Owl’s repetitive toddler questions than I do…
If By Yes recently posted..All Done Mommy Milk