Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Super Mom

Being a mother of two is a tough gig. (Stop the presses! Breaking news!) I continue to feel pulled in all directions. I love my toddler but he does not react well to being told to wait. To give me a minute. To share his time with his sister. Really, I don't know a lot of adults who do well with patience so it's not that surprising that he struggles. But, it's a rough transition for all of us. I have less sleep and less serenity than I would like. I don't respond very pleasantly to whining or temper tantrums when I am crabby (or well-rested, for that matter).

Part of me is starting to wonder if some of this stress is self-inflicted. Yesterday, I wrote about getting to sleep in but then having to rush like crazy to get the kids out the door so the tot could be on time for preschool. As I was speeding (yes, speeding! With my two children in the car!) it occurred to me that my husband had offered repeatedly to take Ben to school. That had I taken him up on the offer, I could have had more time at home to get ready for my doctor appointment, feed the baby one more time, and still have plenty of time to make it to preschool pick up. That I might have been able to do my hair AND my make-up instead of picking between the two. Heck, I might have even gotten a shower or been able to finish my coffee! 

I don't know why I feel "less than" if, heaven forbid, I allow my husband to take the kiddo to school once in awhile. It's as if my letting him take over the school drop off somehow signifies that I have failed for that day. That I have not met all of my "mom objectives". That I can't hack it and have dropped the ball where so many of my fellow moms are succeeding. I can't explain why or where that comes from. But today I realized that sometimes I need to take the help when it's offered. There are plenty of times when I am wishing I had help and it's not available. I need to be able to accept the assistance with gratitude instead of guilt. Getting help from my co-parent doesn't make me a slacker mom or a bad mom. In reality, if it keeps me from snapping at my two year old for whining, it might even make me a better mom. 

1 comment:

  1. This is such a hard thing, and I don't exactly know why. I struggle with it all. the. time, too. And it sucks. Sorry, dear.