Mom Fail

I post a lot of pictures on facebook and instagram and even write posts on this blog that make our little life seem so perfect.  And it is, in more ways than we deserve and most days are just as peachy as the pictures and posts appear to be.  But some days are bummed days -- days you wish you could just start over, and not because you enjoyed them, but because you feel like you needed to give it another go.

 

Today was not a great day.  Today was not even a good day.  I hollered way too often and lost my patience more times than I should have.  I got frustrated and angry way too easily.  So why am I blogging about it?  Why am I choosing to remember days like this?  Because one day, Lucy will hopefully have children of her own, and every day won't be peachy for them, and I want her to know that it's not just her.  That other mom's -- even her own -- went through the same thing.

 

Lucy's almost two -- like, in 51 days almost two -- and she's just recently become VERY independent.  She wants to walk rather than be carried, wants to put on and take off her own shoes, and even wants to climb in her own chair at dinner.  The only time she allows you to help her is when she realizes she has exhausted all of her own options and says "helps."  I LOVE that she has become so independent and self-willed and I really, really, really want to encourage it because in my profession, I see way too many children who can't do for themselves, because their mamas have done for them for so long.  I also want to instill in her that she is capable to do for herself and shouldn't wait around for someone to do for her.  But at the same time, I get so frustrated because as she's learning and experimenting and creating, she's making messes that I can't clean up after fast enough, and hurting herself before I can catch her falls.  And I feel helpless.  I feel like I should be able to clean her messes, encourage her individuality and independence, catch her falls, kiss her boo-boos, help her develop her creativity, show her cause and effect, teach her, read to her, and on and on and on without missing a beat.  And most days -- that's the way it happens.  But not today.

 

Today was a bad day.  But bad days need to happen because they help put me back on track, give me a perspective of what I need to work on, both with her and myself as a mother, and remind me that my life isn't picture perfect -- but rather that it's the imperfections that make it perfect for me. 

 

I love my daughter with half my heart and my husband with the other.  They're all I need -- especially on a bad day.