Hello, My Name Is: Bad Mom

Growing up, I was the little girl who dreamed of her future and had a goal board with a plan of exactly how her life was going to look as an adult. Twenty-five always seemed like a good age to me. It’s the age I thought an established adult was. I expected myself to be settled in with a career I enjoyed, married and with children on the way, if I didn’t already have them.

 I’m six months away from that magical number my child-self thought was the golden ticket to a perfect and happy life. Since I am married and have a 19 month old, I think I’m doing pretty well with the “little mes” goals. What I didn’t take into account was that at almost 25, I still feel like the little girl who was dreaming up this perfect life plan. I don’t feel like a wife or a mom. I barely feel like an adult. My list of accomplishments and experiences is short, held in comparison to my expectations. Point blank: I’m not ready. How am I qualified to guide an energetic, strong willed toddler into a kind, grounded adult when I am still trying to understand who I am?  

I’ve always been told at home, in school, through church, and with pretty script on Hallmark cards that children are a mother’s world, there is nothing greater than a mother’s love for her child, and when you have a child it stops becoming about you. Motherhood is a selfless role. Motherhood is THE role. Up until giving birth, I genuinely believed that as a mom you were limited to being only a mom and that nothing else mattered besides your children. In exchange for a sweet, bundle of joy, you get to kiss goodbye to a happy, romantic marriage, a fulfilling career, traveling the world, your identity, your sanity, and going to the bathroom alone. Two of the biggest premium priced industries are where pets and children are concerned. They know we are willing to pay more to make sure our children have the best because who wouldn’t want “the best” for their child, right?

The answer is me. Here’s the thing: I don’t want what someone else defines as “the best” for my child. I want what I think is the best for my child. My son is amazing, smart, adorable, and sweet. I love him beyond measure, but he’s not my world. He’s one beautiful and miraculous part of it, but he’s not all of it.

Whether I want to believe it or not, God loves him more than I ever could. It doesn’t stop becoming about me, because I don’t stop existing in exchange for his existence. I refuse to let my marriage whither, and give up on what’s important to me. My child will survive if I choose to shut the bathroom door because I would like a moment of privacy.

What’s best for my child is taking into consideration myself, our family, and his future. If I’ve met all of his basic needs, he’s still crying, and I’m barely functioning from sleep deprivation, I’m going to lay him in his crib, kiss him goodnight, and fall into bed with ear plugs. I do believe in the cry-it-out method. More importantly, I believe in a self-care lifestyle. When I’m not operating at my best, I can’t be my best for him. I am a human before I am a woman. I am myself before I am a mom. I have needs too.

Believe me, I’ve experienced mom guilt as a result of this. It’s the real deal, but I’m not okay with those feelings ruling my life when they are inevitable. I make a conscious and daily choice to allow an awareness of my imperfections and my lack of a well-fitted superwoman cape to evolve into acceptance of my shortcomings. I had to choose the bottle over the breast to regain control of my emotional well-being and make sure my son was getting enough nutrition. I’ll probably end up buying the birthday cupcakes instead of making them to save me time that is better used elsewhere. Maybe I’ll let him watch TV or learn how to play by himself so I can have a break and get some chores done. I may choose to teach him delayed gratification and how to manage stress by not giving him a snack the second he tells me he’s hungry. In the end, my husband is going to take the cake. We’re in it for the long haul and after 18 years, I’m stuck with him and the life we’ve created together, good or bad, while my son gets to create what he wants his own life to look like. I’m not going to let our son stay up past his bedtime and cut into our date night and I’m not going to spend $100 on the coolest new toy instead of paying a bill that month. Daily, I have to choose to leave him and go to work to provide for our family while he goes to daycare and learns social interactions, the alphabet, and the color of a frog instead of spending time with me.     

I may still be figuring out myself and there may be things I instill in him as they are being instilled in me, but I know my values have brought me to teach my child kindness, love, integrity, and honesty. He will not be taught self-entitlement, but will be taught selflessness. He will learn to value time and money in a way that never allows him to say he’s bored. He will learn how to manage a life that is overwhelming, difficult, and stressful in a healthy and effective way. He will try everything once, then a second time for good measure, before he’s allowed to not like something. Whether it ends up coming naturally or he learns it, he will put things away and be organized. He will treat women with respect. He will know he is loved by his parents, family, and above all God and I will do everything in my power to prepare his heart to return the love for his Creator. Good things don’t come easy. I want my child to have a good life – the best life, but it comes at a higher cost.

When I critically question what’s best for my child, I realize it conflicts with what everyone thinks is best for their own children and families. Someone out there will disagree with my approach. But I will proudly wear the label that defines me as different, because I made decisions others wouldn’t have made in my shoes. The problem is even if they are in my shoes, they haven’t walked everywhere I’ve walked to bring me to the place I currently stand. The struggle is real, but I have no shame. I’m less interested in what others think and more interested in processing my own thoughts.

I can make sure that my choices and actions are producing the best possible outcomes to sustain our family and raise a child who is strong and capable of taking on the world as an adult when the time comes.

Hello, my name is: different, necessary, loving mom. Ultimately, my name is Amanda. I enjoy photography, lipstick, and margaritas. I work full time and am interested in entrepreneurship and creative arts. I’m so much more than a mom. You can read more about the rest of my identity here. In the end, I want you to know that whatever you are doing, however you are doing it, I’m sure you are doing it because it’s what’s best for you, your family, and your child{ren} in your unique circumstances.

You are doing the best you can do. Pat yourself on the back, own it, and take the night to prop up your feet and relax with a nice glass of wine – or, if you’re like me, a margarita. Cheers to motherhood!