I’m completely overwhelmed by parenting right now. I know that sounds harsh, but it truly feels like an uphill battle every single day. Maybe it’s the chaos of the teenage years, the challenges of sharing custody with my ex-husband, or just the constant strain of financial worries that seems to linger near zero. Or perhaps it’s a combination of all these things. There’s always something, and it often feels like a competition with other moms in the neighborhood.
Parenting is incredibly demanding; it’s like being the CEO of a company where the employees are your beloved children, and their futures weigh heavily on your heart. Striking the right balance between being loving and authoritative, while also being fun, feels nearly impossible. Each day, I wake up determined to be better—actually, I aspire to be perfect—and every single day, I come up short.
My kids mean the world to me. I cherish every moment we spend together; they bring me laughter and joy like nothing else. When they go to their dad’s house, I miss them so much that it feels like a physical ache. Then the guilt kicks in, and I wish for a do-over, dreaming of the perfect mom I strive to be each morning. Deep down, I know that perfection is unattainable, yet I continue to set these impossible standards for myself.
My own mother, who raised five children, always reminds me, “You’re only as happy as your saddest child.” She couldn’t be more right. There’s always one child feeling upset, anxious, or left out. It doesn’t matter who it is or why they’re feeling that way; it breaks my heart. If they are hurting, I feel it tenfold.
I often think that if I were just a better mom, I could eliminate their sadness. If I could always find the right words or give the perfect hug instead of raising my voice, or if I could afford those fun family outings, then maybe their pain would vanish. I want to shield them from every hurt, and for some misguided reason, I believe I can.
But the truth is, I can’t. No matter how hard I try or how much I pray for patience, I will never be perfect, and I cannot completely erase their struggles. Perhaps that’s a blessing in disguise. My kids need to learn that life is not always fair, and it’s not my role to remove all their pain. Instead, I might need to accept these imperfections as opportunities for growth and help my kids understand valuable lessons through their experiences.
Each morning, I should commit to doing my best on that particular day instead of striving for perfection. Moms aren’t meant to be flawless, nor are kids, and maybe that’s perfectly okay.
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In summary, the journey of motherhood is fraught with challenges and imperfections. Rather than aiming for perfection, embracing the reality of parenting may lead to greater growth and understanding for both mothers and their children.
