Oh Mommahood: The Hard Days

It's harder to write on the hard days, for some reason. At the doubtful moments, I find myself wanting to turn to distraction and writing is actually a full on frontal, facing my fears and anxieties about being a good mother. But yesterday I had a long talk, reflecting on how another mama and I both have this irrational fear that our children won't love us. 

W.

T.

F.

is that? 

We are both super loving people and I get that comes from an insecurity, but I've worked on my worthiness level, so honestly confused about why this is such a thing for me these past few days.

And then I come back to this. It is simply because I'm making some big decisions about our life and feel guilt about a lot around that, and because overall, it matters so fucking much. 

More than anything has ever mattered before, I want this little human to be amazing and awesome and in love with his mom. 

But then this week I start manifesting experiences that show that I prove that I am unsure of the amazing momma that I am, like for real. Over the course of three days I locked the little guy in my car, with the keys, and had to break my own back window to get in (unbeknownst to him, he had about three minutes in there alone) and then today I was so involved in my cooking that I didn't see him bite into the little dishwasher detergent pouch under the sink, and had to call poison control in my first-time-momma-trauma response as he played happily in the bathtub, spitting and drinking bath water to wash down the detergent suds.

As someone on a spiritual path, I like to explore events like this and yet with these ones I'm like what-is-happppening?! I'm a good mom who loves this boy, but I screw up that bad twice in three days? What is going on?

Then earlier this week I accept my dream job and yesterday we somehow acquired the dream nanny to come live with us at Big White and yet I am suffering from major mama guilt about returning to work. Even with pitching an entire proposal so that I can work part-time. Probably more so because I know I have more projects I want to do and it means a lot of time away from the babe.

I just can't get over this mama guilt and how much it affects me every single day. And I'm an overall chill person when it comes to life, so I just can't believe how much this must eat away at our society.

After a day of deep breathing, I come back to this thought another bad-ass momma said to me: "I may not be the perfect person to raise any other child, but I am the perfect person to raise my own." He chose me with all of my faults and brings all of the lessons I need to learn. I'm currently making decisions about the largest parts of our lives all in a very short period of time and I can either ride these waves like a champ or lose my edge and get tossed under the sea. 

There are times when getting tossed under is so palpable. 

Motherhood is hard. Doing it without a full-time partner is definitely a tricky piece to this puzzle. But toss me under the waves and see me come out riding because this mama knows resilience. 

Resilience is the nitty gritty days of wearing Onyx on my chest while shovelling snow up to my knees only to snap the shovel and have to drive out to get a new one at 7 p.m., finding out afterwards that the poor guys little toe was bent back in his sock and he never even said a word.

Resilience is the day you move out of your child's father's house only to have to see him every single day for the rest of your life while you consciously co-parent your beautiful child.

Resilience is taking those moments where you just feel like there's no way you can possibly go any further and saying to yourself, "What are my options? To either stop or to go on." And you go on.

Resilience is making sure that every single night you stop. drop. and nidra. You take 30 full minutes to meditate for self-care.

Resilience is ordering food in because you only ate a boiled egg and a donut today and you deserve to eat well. 

Resilience is writing about the hard days in hopes that someone will see it and know they're not alone.

Resilience is looking into the eyes of your son in those fleeting moments where he stops to give you a quick squeeze and knowing that everything in the world is actually perfect.

And resilience is looking deep into the mirror at the end of the day, into your own tired sparkling eyes, and saying YOU. ARE. LOVED.

Please mamas, and just all the souls out there, repeat it for me.

You

are

loved.