I never imagined I’d become the mother I am today. That realization hit me yesterday while my little one lay on the floor, howling because I wouldn’t let him dip his fingers into the toilet bowl for the umpteenth time. Tears streamed down his face, and I could see the betrayal etched in his expression.
And there I sat, cross-legged on the closed toilet lid, stifling laughter. Honestly, what’s a mom supposed to do at 5:30 AM, pre-caffeine, when the first tantrum of the day revolves around toilet water? As my little guy sent out wails of despair into the universe, I stood up to grab a towel to clean his hands.
That’s when I caught a glimpse of a peculiar reflection in the mirror. Who… is that?
There she was in all her splendor—her sleek braid draped over one shoulder, a rosy glow on her cheeks, perfectly arched eyebrows, and a pressed shirt that hung just right over her slim figure. As she raised a finger to wag in my face, a chill ran down my spine.
Oh no! It’s… The Mother I Thought I Would Be!
I had seen her before, most recently at a drive-thru while ordering fries to keep my kid entertained during a long trip. As I adjusted the rearview mirror, there she was again, her judgmental face laced with a disapproving pout. “You should have ordered the apple slices,” she sneered.
I was frozen, horrified, blinking in disbelief, until a friendly voice cut through. “Ma’am… your fries.” Concern flashed across the cashier’s face as she handed me the bag. I drove a little further and tossed it in the trash like a lunatic.
Because, honestly? I’m haunted. Haunted by the specters of mom guilt.
I can’t blame Pinterest-perfect parents or my overly supportive mom. I can’t even point fingers at those polished moms at the gym—who does yoga and crafts while looking flawless? My anxiety stems from the nagging feeling that I’m not living up to the mom I envisioned. I worry that my little one is missing out.
The Mother I Thought I Would Be wouldn’t be caught laughing like a hyena on the bathroom floor. She would have redirected the toilet water shenanigans into an enriching sink activity, splashing around with bubbles and tossing around words like “water displacement.” She’d clean up the mess with a lighthearted chuckle and move on to the next educational adventure.
I strive to embody her, but I can’t keep up. She’s busy doing yoga, art projects, and sending out holiday cards. She’s everything I wish to be, but if I’m honest… I kind of can’t stand her.
We would never be friends. I can’t deal with her self-righteous lectures or her rigid schedule. Her food is probably boring, and I have no idea where my iron is! I even throw my husband’s dress shirts in the dryer—shhh, don’t tell!
The Mother I Thought I Would Be is flawless, and I feel like I could never fill her pretty shoes. But as I watch my little one rolling on the tiles, kicking out his frustrations, I realize he’s not the child I imagined either.
So, I scoop him up from the bathroom floor, wipe away the toilet water, and look into those beautiful green eyes. I can’t help but giggle.
Yep, we both have our quirks. But together, we fit just right.
For more insights into parenting and home insemination, you can check out some of our other posts here. If you’re interested in artificial insemination products, resources from Make a Mom are a great place to start. And for comprehensive information on pregnancy and related topics, visit IVF Babble.
Summary:
The blog reflects on the unexpected experiences of motherhood, revealing the gap between idealized expectations and the chaotic reality of parenting. Embracing imperfections and the uniqueness of her child, the author finds joy amidst the struggles, ultimately realizing that they fit perfectly together despite their flaws.