Mom-guilt be damned, I’m trying my best

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This article was published 19/04/2021 (1799 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

One of the things I didn’t expect about having children is how much guilt I tend to take on.

It’s been especially heightened over the course of this past year, but even in a non-pandemic life I feel as though I am living in a constant state of mom-guilt. Sometimes the load is heavy and other times it’s just a dusting on my day.

No matter what, that guilt is always there.

I feel guilty about the excessive screen time my kids indulge in. I feel guilty about being short with them when they don’t hustle out the door to school, or when they don’t want to go to bed. I feel guilty when I think about all the things they are missing, or how I keep promising to make up for lost time and experiences one day. I especially feel guilty for the fact they still wholeheartedly believe in and cling to “one day” — a place where the promise of replacing lost playdates and birthday parties comes true, and gatherings are abundant.

By the time this column is published, my daughter will have celebrated her sixth birthday, her second in a pandemic. A quick look at my social media feeds will probably tell you that it was a great day, and we all really enjoyed ourselves. We’ve managed to make the most out of our birthdays so far. However, in the meantime, as we get closer to her special day, I have been sinking in this feeling of mom-guilt.

Birthdays are a big deal when you’re young.

We’ll still have a small family party and invite grandparents, aunties, and cousins to sing Happy Birthday over a Zoom call. It will be good, even though it’s not what we’d hoped for. Of course this isn’t the worst thing in the world; we are lucky and privileged on so many levels, but even in that place of privilege there is room for disappointment and guilt, because we are human, after all.

As parents we are constantly asking ourselves what we’ve done wrong, or taking the blame for the lemons that life throws our way. We make plenty of mistakes, but we need to give ourselves a break. Parenting is hard. We should be taking note of all the things we are doing right and all the times we’ve tried our best.

Mom-guilt be damned, I’m trying my best.

All month long we’ve been counting down the sleeps until she turns six, but it just recently dawned on me that I never told her that we wouldn’t be having a birthday party with her friends. I half-expected her to just know that she wouldn’t, since none of her friends have had birthday parties either, but I don’t think she did.

One evening last week as we snuggled in her bed after I had read her a bedtime story, I stared out the window at the giant tree branches and I mentioned that when she woke up in the morning, it would be one less sleep until her birthday.

“This year we can’t have a big party,” I said gently. I held my breath, not knowing how she would react.

“But my friends want to come to my birthday,” she replied calmly, as though logic was enough.

“I know,” I said. “We will have a birthday party with all your friends when the virus is over, I promise.”

“Just one?” She prodded.

“As soon as the virus is over we will have a big party with all of your friends, I promise…”

Happy birthday, my girl.

shelley.cook@freepress.mb.ca

Twitter @ShelleyACook