Friday, August 17, 2012


Do you suffer from mother guilt?
Maybe I'm not doing this right? How do I know to do what, and when?

When to move from bassinet to cot?
When to start solids?
Which formula to use?

Which school?
Extracurricular activities? or not?

Strict bedtimes, or less rigid?

Everything seems like a guess, and following the guess is the hope that you've done it right this time. The hope that it will turn out okay.

No different was the decision I made on Wednesday morning.
After rushing to get everyone out of the house on time, thanks to an accidental sleep-in, I was running late for uni.
Thankfully I got clever the night before, and set out clothes for the four of us, and packed lunches and school bags. {I know, I know, I could make life easier for myself and do this every day, but it happens only rarely!}
So it wasn't super late, but it was late enough for enough people to be looking at me as I walked into the lecture theatre. Shudder.

So I made one of those mother decisions. 
Which felt like the mother of all decisions at the time.
As I pulled into a parking space outside the school, after dropping off Miss A at her daycare less than 100 meters away, I turned to face Mr Grade One, and Miss Kindy.

"J, do you think you would be able to take E to her class today? Mummy is running a little late for her school, and it would be super helpful!"
Their eyes lit up, and I heard a "YESSSSSS!!" chorus from the both of them as they scrambled hurriedly to exit the car.
My instructions about making sure she put her fruit in the bowl, and her hat in her box were obviously beneath Mr Grade One, because he started walking away with his arm around his sister saying impatiently, "I know mum, come on E!"
Ready for the challenge.
Ready for the task.

And I stood there, stuck in place watching those two, and another piece of their reliance upon me slip away. Just a small piece, but a piece nonetheless.

And I blinked, and wondered when it was they stopped needing me for sustenance, and for rocking them to sleep.
Even Miss E rarely needs a "kiss it better" any more.

I hopped back in the car, a mix of emotions;
One minute so proud of him, of them, of their love and care for each other.
The next worried that I'd placed too much expectation and responsibility on him.
And was she missing out, because I wasn't there to sit in class, and do a puzzle, and kiss her when the bell rang?
And there comes the mother guilt.
And the questioning.
Did I do the right thing? Did I make the right choice for me?

And ultimately, on Wednesday, I think I did.

Do you question and re-question,
doubt and let guilt in?


1 comment:

  1. Guilt is definitely not a mothers best friend. It loves to pop up & mess with my head way too often for my liking.


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