A collection of moments

We were reading on the couch one day when she looked up, “Mom, I want to be just like you when I grow up.” What do you mean, sweetheart? “Just that you’re a really good Mommy, and I want to be just like you.” In that moment I realized how much I had been doubting myself as a mom. What a gift she gave me that day.

*****

Do you ever wonder if you’re doing enough for your kids? Or if you’re doing too much? Or if you’re doing things wrong?

Do you ever wonder if maybe you’re just screwing everything up?

I remember coming out of the hospital with my first baby. I couldn’t understand how after almost a week in the hospital, they were just sending us home. Alone with a newborn. Without instructions.

Didn’t they know we had no clue about what we were doing? Couldn’t they see how terrified we were?

Those first years were the hardest. I felt unequipped and scared all the time. Plus, these tiny humans needed me EVERY SECOND OF THE DAY. As an introvert, the constant tugging and pulling sometimes seemed to sap the life right out of me.

My first baby is now an 8-year-old boy with a 6-year-old sister.  Now that they’re getting older, I have more time to myself. But that brings up new worries. Am I paying enough attention to them? Am I controlling them too much? Am I answering their questions correctly? Am I looking at my phone too much? Am I setting a good example?

These mom-guilt-sessions seem to gnaw at me constantly.

But then…it’s bedtime. And we snuggle. I let them mess up my hair. They squish my face and giggle. We give thanks for the day, and I hear them speak gratitude and love.

And I realize that I obsess too much over every little moment, when they are only thinking about moments like these. Reading a story together on the couch. Extra hugs before bed. Tickle fights and bad jokes.

At some point, these will become a collection of moments. And this collection of moments will be remembered as a happy childhood. And maybe someday I will believe what my daughter says about what kind of mom I am.

At some point, these will become a collection of moments. And this collection of moments will be remembered as a happy childhood. And maybe someday I will believe what my daughter says about what kind of mom I am.