What a day…and I don’t necessarily mean that in a good way.
We’re having such terrible electrical problems at our house that I felt it necessary to take Emily (my daughter) to stay with a friend until we could get the problems resolved. It was the right thing to do, taking her. I know this.
However, on my way home it hit me that when I gave birth to my 8 pound bundle of joy 11 years ago, I also unleased at the very least a metric ton of GUILT. Being a Mom is the hardest job on the planet. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. If they do, they are lying.
Never a day goes by that I don’t question myself as a mother. I mean, I know that for the most part, I do right by my kid. When it conerns daily tasks that come with parenting, I’m good. But the big stuff? Oy Vey! There are times when I feel I’m failing her and it’s not fun. Luckily, she and I are so close that our communication (at least until she becomes a teenager) is at an optimum. We talk, we talk often, and we talk about everything. If she feels cheated in some way, she tells me. For this I am truly grateful. The fact she can come to me with anything, I suppose, is proof I’m doing okay. But still…the worry is always there, right under the surface, sometimes like an itch I simply can not scratch.
I’m also a single Mom which I think sometimes makes it harder, then knowing my ex-husband the way I do, I can sit back and be grateful he’s not a real part of the process of raising our child. Oddly enough, I think Emily is a bit glad about that, as well. The truth is she and I have this amazing support system so we really are blessed.
This year though, it is going to be about making money. Money to provide better for her. She owns my heart and I want her to be happy. I want her to be warm, to feel safe, to know she can always count on me no matter what. Ultimately the responsibility is all mine, and I’m okay with that. But when I feel I’m failing her, jeez…the guilt can be absolutely mind-numbing.