I Suck.

How can I be rollin' along feelin' pretty good about this mom thing, then suddenly be slapped with the realization that I'm mediocre at best? I try to do what's right for my kids, balanced with some time for just me, but in the end I always end up feeling inadequate, guilty. Does this sound familiar? God, I hope so, because I could use some back up.

Last week, I was in the shower when I suddenly heard the alarm on my phone ringing. First thought? "Crap! Where am I supposed to be that I forgot about?!" School. Mystery Reader. I'm late.

I twisted my hair up in a clip and took off for the school, book in hand, with a wet head. I waited impatiently to sign in, then took off for the classroom apologizing profusely. I missed it. The teacher covered for me and said we could reschedule. She said she had a reminder for me last week, but since the munchkin was home sick I never got it.

Now, I baked them treats this week, helped them with homework, made them yummy dinners, cleaned up their messes, and gave them lots of hugs and kisses, but this little episode sent me home in a funk. I suck. I suck, I suck, I suck...The chant in my head in the car.

I think, as mothers, we are our own worst critics. I know I was a good mom to them this week, but it was all erased in my mind once I messed up with Mystery Reader. How can I do better? Is it possible to never mess up? How can I accept it and move on without it demeaning all I've worked for up until that moment?

I don't have the answer. But, I can sit down here and type it out here and know that I do the best I can. That nobody's perfect. That they will not be scarred forever if I miss reading time at school. The big picture is much more than that. But, it would still be rewarding to feel like I have it all together at some point in this process. So, until then, I sucked at being a Mystery Reader, but I'm trying my best to be a great mom. That's all I can hope for at the moment.

**Edit**

One of my girlfriends just emailed me a Job Description for Mothers she wrote in response to this post:



Job Description:

Pray with the children each day and night, bathe them, dress them, brush their teeth and comb their hair each morning by 7:00. Take each child to a doctor's appointment, a dentist appointment, and an appointment for a haircut. Know all of the words to every stupid song that comes on TV and the name of each and every repulsive character on Nickelodeon. Take each child to play two sports and either music or dance classes. There is no fast food.

Cook, do laundry, decorate house, keep house clean and presentable at all times, and plant flowers outside. Correct all homework, complete science projects, pay bills and budget in money for groceries each week. Make cookies or cupcakes for a social function. Attend weekly PTA meetings, church, and find time at least once to spend the afternoon at the park or a similar setting.

Shave legs, wear makeup daily, which is applied either while driving or making lunches. Adorn self with jewelry, wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes, keep nails polished and eyebrows groomed. Have extreme, unexplained mood swings but never once complain or slow down from other duties.Know all of the following information: each child's birthday, height, weight, shoe size, clothes size and doctor's name. Also the child's weight at birth, length, time of birth, and length of labor. Each child's favorite color, middle name, favorite snack, favorite song, favorite drink, favorite toy, biggest fear and what they want to be when they grow up.

Clean up after their sick children at 3:00 a.m. and then spend the remainder of the day tending to that child and waiting on them hand and foot until they are better. Make an Indian hut model with six toothpicks, a tortilla and one marker; and get a 4 year old to eat a serving of peas.

Have enough energy to be intimate with spouse at a moments notice. Do this over and over and over again for the next 18-25 years...eventually earning the right to be called Mother!
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He's Gone...

Those were the words I kept repeating to myself this morning as I watched my Helper Munchkin walk away from me with the rest of his Kindergarten class this morning. I was left with a sense of loss, relief, emptiness, pride, and a blurry picture of my guy following in a line to his first classroom. My vision of him was blurry to me because my eyes were filled with tears, how appropriate that the photo I took came out the same way.

I go through this transition each fall as my full time kids become my part time kids, and teachers get more quality time that I. I struggle with embracing my new identity as "Jen" again, as motherhood is placed on the back burner for 8 hours per day. I feel lost for the first few weeks trying to remember what I like to do, eat, read... Wondering if my boys are missing me as much as I miss them and guilty that we didn't do everything we planned during the long summer.

I worry that the pressure will get to them, that they're not eating a good lunch, that they are getting bullied (or bully-ing). Who will tell them to put on a sweatshirt, notice if they're sick, give them a hug? How can I stop being a mother when that's what I DO? I even write "Mom" in the space that asks my occupation on forms I have to fill out!

I have shed a lot of tears this week in preparation, watching a tv show, listening to a song, just watching my kids play...I know I'm not alone and take comfort from the fact that they are strong individuals who are able to make their own way without me. In one respect, it's a job well done that is breaking my heart. I feel like this song (yes, it's ABBA, just deal!) says it all:



Slipping Through My Fingers

Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
And I have to sit down for a while
The feeling that I’m losing her forever
And without really entering her world
I’m glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what’s in her mind
Each time I think I’m close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time

Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when she’s gone there’s that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can’t deny
What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go
(slipping through my fingers all the time)
Well, some of that we did but most we didn’t
And why I just don’t know

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what’s in her mind
Each time I think I’m close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time

Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time
Slipping through my fingers...

Slipping through my fingers all the time

Schoolbag in hand she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile...

**This post is from my archives and originally posted August 27th 2008. As I try to express how I feel today, I realize it's exactly as it was then, watching my boys board the school bus. I feel the time with my children slipping through my fingers as they grow older, more independent. I want to bottle them at this age, keep them for myself, but I know that isn't my job. My job is to help them grow up to be smart independent adults. If they end up leaving home and not needing me anymore, I've done my job. If they end up all those things yet still wanting me around, I'll say I was as successful as I could hope to be.

But, for now, I'm grasping at the moments as they slip past and storing memories for another time. I'm memorizing patterns of freckles, crooked smiles, raspy voices, and tight squeezes and stringing them like pearls to wear on a day in the future when their childhood is a thing of the past. (isn't that "pearls" idea beautiful? I stole it from Jodi Picoult)

Oh I love these boys and will miss our lazy summer days...only 186 days until I get my boys back!!! Na Na Teachers!

Link up with BJ Mama for Say it with a song Sundays!
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