What does it mean to be a good mother?
I want to be one, but how do you know if you’re doing your job the way you should? How do you evaluate yourself at the end of the day? It’s not like you get quarterly performance reviews or a bonus for a job well done.
Motherhood comes with its own special kind of guilt. Mine started before Alexander was even born. I remember when I was only about 6 weeks pregnant and I took some allergy medication only to find out that it wasn’t approved for pregnant women. Much mental anguish ensued. I was convinced that I had done irreparable damage to my unborn child in my selfish quest to get rid of a runny nose.
Once he was born, it only got worse. In the first days, I was constantly worried that the water I was using to make his bottles contained too much fluoride and was going to give him brain damage. Then there was the first time I gave him gas drops…I gave him the wrong dosage and just knew he was going to have a severe reaction. I could go on. These things are laughable now, but at the time, I drove my husband crazy with my Guilty Mother paranoia.
Even now, at the end of the day, I wonder: Did I play with him enough? Did I hold him enough? They (whoever this mysterious “they” is) say your child is supposed to hear you say 17,000 words a day…did I talk to him enough (I couldn’t say 17,000 words if I were running for public office)? Should I be taking him to Mommy and Me classes? Am I reading enough books to him? Should we be giving him organic baby food? You see where I’m going with this. It never ends. There is always some aspect of my mothering that I question and wonder if I’m doing enough, if I’m enough.
It seems like this is just the mother’s lot in the parenting game. Men don’t seem to have this problem. My husband loves our son and is an excellent father. He feeds him, plays with him, changes him, makes his bottles, cuddles him…he does all the things a loving parent does, all the things that I do. But he doesn’t worry like I do. And he doesn’t seem to have the guilt that I do. He doesn’t seem to worry whether or not he’s a good father.
And Alexander loves us both equally. In the morning, he grins his big toothless grin at me when I get him out of his crib. And, in the afternoon, he grins the same grin at his daddy when he comes home from work.
So, I guess in Alexander’s opinion, Mommy and Daddy both are doing just fine.
I want to be one, but how do you know if you’re doing your job the way you should? How do you evaluate yourself at the end of the day? It’s not like you get quarterly performance reviews or a bonus for a job well done.
Motherhood comes with its own special kind of guilt. Mine started before Alexander was even born. I remember when I was only about 6 weeks pregnant and I took some allergy medication only to find out that it wasn’t approved for pregnant women. Much mental anguish ensued. I was convinced that I had done irreparable damage to my unborn child in my selfish quest to get rid of a runny nose.
Once he was born, it only got worse. In the first days, I was constantly worried that the water I was using to make his bottles contained too much fluoride and was going to give him brain damage. Then there was the first time I gave him gas drops…I gave him the wrong dosage and just knew he was going to have a severe reaction. I could go on. These things are laughable now, but at the time, I drove my husband crazy with my Guilty Mother paranoia.
Even now, at the end of the day, I wonder: Did I play with him enough? Did I hold him enough? They (whoever this mysterious “they” is) say your child is supposed to hear you say 17,000 words a day…did I talk to him enough (I couldn’t say 17,000 words if I were running for public office)? Should I be taking him to Mommy and Me classes? Am I reading enough books to him? Should we be giving him organic baby food? You see where I’m going with this. It never ends. There is always some aspect of my mothering that I question and wonder if I’m doing enough, if I’m enough.
It seems like this is just the mother’s lot in the parenting game. Men don’t seem to have this problem. My husband loves our son and is an excellent father. He feeds him, plays with him, changes him, makes his bottles, cuddles him…he does all the things a loving parent does, all the things that I do. But he doesn’t worry like I do. And he doesn’t seem to have the guilt that I do. He doesn’t seem to worry whether or not he’s a good father.
And Alexander loves us both equally. In the morning, he grins his big toothless grin at me when I get him out of his crib. And, in the afternoon, he grins the same grin at his daddy when he comes home from work.
So, I guess in Alexander’s opinion, Mommy and Daddy both are doing just fine.
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