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A Mother's Guilt
Balancing Work and Family By Gwen Morrison
me, making its debut at the most vulnerable moment possible. When I left my friend's house, I was engulfed in the feeling. I started to question everything about my mothering abilities. Was I working too much? Was I missing out on something with them? Will I ever get that load of white socks out of the dryer?
I spent the next week consumed by the feelings of guilt. Instead of talking to my family, which is what I should have done, I wallowed in my own secret self-pity session. I questioned every aspect of my life. It's what mothers do, isn't it? What was I truly feeling guilty about? Then it dawned on me – I was feeling guilty because I was happy. It really had little to do with the fact that my pumpkin wasn't carved yet or that I forgot to buy dog food – again. I was feeling guilty because something other than motherhood was making me happy.
I know it sounds absurd, but that was it. I was afraid that I was replacing one job (being a mom) with another. Now that I had a better idea of what was causing the problems, I felt like I had a better handle on it. I called my friend in hopes that she would tell me I was completely founded in my belief that I was now a terrible mother! Of course, she didn't do that – she did quite the opposite. She reminded me that a happy mother was a good mother. It was as simple as that. She reminded me that I have this awesome job that allows me to go to lunch on occasion with my 6-year-old son, drive my teenage daughter to a friend's house, help my 10-year-old with a project and mae caramel apples on a cold, rainy day.
Mother guilt is powerful. It can make you search your soul, but maybe that's not a bad thing. Maybe as mothers we need to be reminded every now and then that we are doing OK. It's not about how much you work or if you stay home. It's about the things you do with your children when you are together. There is no one formula when it comes to creating a balance between work and family, but I think I have figured out that I can be a good mother without sacrificing myself.
By grabbing hold of that guilt and seeing it for what it really was, I have been able to put to rest (for now) my fears of inadequacy as a mom. I am sure that guilt will loom overhead again, but for now, I am content in the belief that my children will be fine. Maybe it was my 16-year-old daughter who said it best, "Mom, I'm so proud of you."
So the white socks remain in the dryer one more day, but my kids will be fine. And so will I.