This post is a challenging one for me to write. Even though I am accustomed to wearing my heart on my sleeve in terms of what I share here, there are occasionally topics that I shy away from, for fear of being judged.
But I decided to write this one after talking to two close family relatives, who both happened to express the same sentiment to me:
“I feel/felt like a bad mom.”
The reasons that they each shared were different, but the pain and doubt was the same. They both felt that, in that moment, they weren’t doing a “good enough” job as mother to their children.
I often share the lighter, funnier side of parenting here. But after reflecting on this idea, I’ll share my horrifying experience today.
After dropping my kids off to school today, #6 and I were in the basement. I was folding laundry, and he was playing with his toys. He told me that he was going to get his blanket from his room upstairs. No problem, right? Sure. He’ll be 3 years old in two weeks, so a quick jaunt upstairs seemed reasonable.
So he headed upstairs to get his blanket, and I continued to fold laundry as the washing machine churned.
Within three minutes, just as I realized that #6 was being suspiciously quiet, I heard him cry. But it was faint. I was afraid he’d hurt himself, so I tore up the stairs… to find the front door open…
…and #6 on the WRONG side of it. As in,
OUTSIDE.
Cue instant heart attack…
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In the three minutes -yes, exactly THREE- that I had continued to fold laundry, #6 had managed to unlock our front door and creep out of the house, undetected. He had attempted to open the car door -as per his attempted explanation- and then in trying to get back into the house, could not open the screen door. Hence the crying.
Crying, which was no match for my own hysterics.
It was a cavalcade of mixed emotions.
Relief that he was SAFE. And UNHURT.
A rush of adrenalized fear: the fear that he could have gotten hit by a car. Or taken by a stranger. Or wandered too far to be found.
Followed by: guilt.
MASSIVE, ALL-ENCOMPASSING GUILT.
Why didn’t I hear the door alarm (because as “good parents”, yes, of course we have one. And locks on every gate, too)? Why did I assume that I could trust him to go upstairs and NOT get into trouble? Why didn’t I realize that it would only be a matter of time before he tried to successfully open the door lock? Why didn’t I just go upstairs with him to get his blanket? Why hadn’t I folded one less towel?
The “I should have known”s.
The “I’m a HORRIBLE mom!”s
The “what will my neighbors THINK???”s.
The “people will think I’m a lazy, irresponsible mom”s.
The “I’m the WORST MOM EVER. I HATE MYSELF”s.
Now obviously, the story had a happy ending. My son was perfectly safe, and The Captain is installing a chain lock at the door top this very evening.
But the feelings lingered. The feelings of guilt. The feelings of worthlessness. The feelings of inadequacy. The internal mantra continued,
“I’m a BAD MOM.“
It’s hard to even put out there, knowing there could be judgement. But I’m telling the story, because after thinking about my conversation with both of my relatives that voiced similar feelings towards themselves, I recognized the irony.
When I encouraged both of them, I meant what I said. I talked about how as moms, we’re human. We lose our temper. We forget things. We make mistakes. But there is no playbook for parenting, so all we can do is love our children and do the very best we can.
If only… if only I could apply my “words of wisdom” to MYSELF.
And that’s the point. It’s our love -the intense, indescribably primal love that we have for our children that compels to keep our expectations of ourselves so unbelievably high. Think about it: for who else would you gladly endure sleep deprivation for? Or endure being vomited upon, only to continue feeling sorry for the ill spewer as you forsake your own vomit-spattered shirt while cleaning said child?
We want to give our children the very best of everything, including ourselves. And when we fall short of that expectation -and we DO, because we’re imperfect human beings- we can often be far more critical of ourselves and our actions than anyone else would be.
While I’m obviously a work in progress, it was important to me to share this idea. We’re bombarded by news stories that often depict the very worst and sordid tales of parents that neglect, abuse, of even kill their children. And to us, those are “bad” parents. But it’s interesting how quickly we can describe ourselves with the very same terminology for ourselves in the moments that we fall short of loving our child(ren) the way we always want to.
My humble advice: Be gentle with yourself. Chances are, if you’re worrying about whether or not you’re a good parent, you already are a damn good one. Forgive yourself for your shortcomings and your mistakes, and learn from them.
And get a chain lock for your front door.
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Well said my friend…..very well said.
WORD, Steve! Thanks for reading 🙂
Oh my! If that’s the worst you’ve got, consider yourself super duper lucky! My daughters are 23 and 21 now. I’ve got stories — the teenage years were QUITE the test. When my daughters were little, I actually used to “grade” myself as a parent. Some days I gave myself a “D” . . . but never an “F”! I consider myself a good parent because we made it through (relatively) unscathed. And now, if I listen really, really hard, I hear them express their appreciation for my “momness”! Ah, yes, there is still a good deal of criticism over the decisions I made but I figure by the time they have teenagers of their own they will understand! I agree with your message in this post — parents need to know they will make mistakes and they can’t be too hard on themselves. And OTHER parents need to back down and not be so judgmental. Everyone is trying their best!
Bridget, great words of wisdom, and from someone who’s made it through the teen years! As the mom of a 13 year old, I’m already skeered! You are right about other parents needing to be less judgmental; I can’t deal with the mommy wars that I see on social media. We’re all just trying to do the best that WE can at the same job!
What a scare! I know that adrenaline surged moment all too well as a mom. That innate instinct to protect at pretty much any cost is deeply engrained in me and all mothers. Very good sentiment at the end, to be kind and accepting of who you are as a parent.
Thanks, Kim!
Gosh, that must have been horrible to experience. My cousin “disappeared” when she was 3 years old at a party and the family were having so much fun we forgot about her. It was only til the end that we realised and panic ensued. She had locked herself in the bathroom and the lock had jammed – she was in there for at least an hour!
Oh, my- that must have been some party! lol Thanks for sharing your own experience- it makes me feel better.
I once lost my daughter in my own living room. No, really. I was hysterical! She was hiding.. wait for it.. under a futon. It was her giggle over my hysterics that gave her away. There is no worse feeling. We’ve compared war stories before – it’s a whole can of (wonderful) crazy here all the time. I have been told I have the strength and patience of a saint (not true). But, some days, I lose it or I get distracted or I’m too trusting that they’ll not do what I would probably do if I were their age, which of course they are going to – like paint the kitchen orange. And on those days, I have a saying that has become my mantra – it’s a bad day, not a bad life. I’ll be expanding it to include “Your best is enough.” Great read!
Kim, everything you’ve said here is exactly what I think! Right down to the expression, “it’s a bad day, not a bad life”. *high five*
Wow, you have a door alarm?
One of my challenges as a mom is to let go. We want to protect our children, so they’re happy and don’t hurt themselves. There is only so much we can do. They will fall, pinch their fingers, knock out their teeth, have their heart broken, and they will be lost in one way ore another.
I’m curious: where did your little one wanted to go anyway???
I have a friend whose son ( about the same age at the time ) got out of her apartment… opened the door and just wandered off, around the complex, resulting in hours of searching. Thankfully she found him safe and unharmed. And a day or two later he tried to get out that apartment door again. By then she’d learned to keep the deadbolt locked at all times! As for me, nothing like that YET but the day my baby crawled right over the edge of the bed, when I was standing inches away, but wasn’t fast enough to stop her, I felt like the worst mom on the PLANET. She was fine. I was a mess. Things happen. We’re human. Great post, thank you for sharing your human mommy moment. 🙂
Oh, the edge of the bed… yup, we’ve had a few missed on that, too…! ???????? Thanks for reading!
Bad moment for sure!! NOT a bad mom (:
I let my three-year-olds play outside alone intentionally so I guess some people would think I’m a super bad mom. My three and four year old boys once actually got hold of my keys and DROVE THE CAR into the side of the garage. You can’t watch them every second and some of them are really creative about getting into trouble. Anyone who reads your blog can tell you are a good and loving mother.
It happens to everyone. Once I was in the shower while my kids played in the living room, and my 1-year-old figured out how to open the screen door and go outside (he’d never done that before.) I had to run out in my towel to retrieve him and was so happy that he hadn’t gotten hit by a car.