I often find myself reflecting on the kind of mother I envisioned I would become. Just yesterday, as my little one lay on the floor in a fit of rage because I refused to let him play in the toilet (again), I had an epiphany. Tears streamed down his cheeks; he looked at me as if I had betrayed him. And there I was, perched on the closed toilet seat, stifling laughter. Yes, it was utterly ridiculous!
What else can a tired mom do at 5:30 AM, before coffee, when faced with the day’s first crisis involving toilet water? As my child’s cries echoed, I stood to clean his hands and caught a glimpse of something in the mirror.
Who was that staring back at me?
There she stood in all her perfect glory. Her hair was elegantly braided, a hint of blush adorned her cheeks, and her impeccably styled eyebrows were framed by a pressed blouse that draped perfectly over her slim figure.
And as she raised a finger to wag at me, a chill ran down my spine. Oh no! It was… The Mother I Thought I Would Be!
I had seen her before, most recently at a local drive-thru while ordering fries to keep my little one entertained during a long car ride. As I adjusted the rearview mirror, there she was—her disapproving gaze piercing through me. “You should have chosen the apple slices,” she sneered.
I sat frozen, horrified. I blinked repeatedly, as if willing her away. “Ma’am, here are your fries,” the cheerful attendant said, tossing the bag through my window. I drove off and promptly tossed them into the trash, like a lunatic.
Because, my friends, I am truly haunted. Haunted by the specters of parental inadequacy.
I can’t point fingers at Pinterest-perfect parents or my own wonderfully supportive mother. I won’t even blame those seemingly flawless moms at the gym who show up with full makeup for morning boot camp. No, my anxiety stems from the relentless pressure I feel to be the mother I always dreamed of being. I worry that my child is missing out on something essential, that I should be doing so much better.
The Mother I Thought I Would Be would never be caught laughing hysterically on the bathroom floor. She would have turned the toilet incident into a fun science experiment, demonstrating how water displacement works. She would have delighted in splashing around with bubbles, effortlessly creating enriching experiences for her child.
But try as I might, I can’t keep pace with her. She’s too busy doing yoga, organizing craft projects, and sending out family holiday cards. She’s everything I aspire to be, yet, if I’m honest, I can’t stand her. We could never be friends. I can’t deal with her judgmental remarks, her strict routines, or her bland food choices. Plus, I’m not even sure where my iron is! I casually toss my husband’s dress shirts in the dryer (shhh… don’t tell).
The Mother I Thought I Would Be? She’s flawless, and I feel hopelessly inadequate trying to fill her shoes.
But as I watch my toddler roll on the floor, expressing his frustration in wild flails, I realize he isn’t exactly who I thought he would be either. So, I scoop him up off the bathroom floor, wipe the toilet water from his hands, and gaze into those gorgeous green eyes. We both share our imperfections, but somehow, we fit together just right.
For more insights on parenting and the challenges that come with it, check out this related post on parenting insecurities. And if you’re thinking about home insemination options, consider visiting CryoBaby for reliable syringe kits. For additional information about pregnancy and home insemination, Healthline offers excellent resources.
Leave a Reply