Free yourselves, moms. Let go of your preconceived notions of what a "good" mom is, and be the wonderful mom that YOU ARE. You are enough, Mama. You are actually, MORE than enough.
Let the kid cry. You are his Mama, you've already checked his vitals (diaper, fever, hungry, thirsty). He will be okay. Accept that you cannot be the only source of joy and fulfillment for your children. Accept that we cannot control them. Accept that, no matter what other moms tell you about letting your kid cry (sometimes.... I don't mean the screaming all day, or leaving a new baby for hours in the night, I can't handle that shit) that at times, there is nothing else. Your tank is empty, your magic bag of tricks is depleted, and you just don't have the answer. Let the kid cry- because if you try for hours on end to make him shut it, you're going to turn into that mom that you don't want to be. The yeller. The screamer. The thrower. The monster. So let it go, let the expectation that your kids will always be soothe-able- GO.
Let them make the mess. My son has this thing for ripping every book from our bookshelves. Every. freaking. day. It grates my gears, and often makes me want to explode. He doesn't even sit and look at them. The kiddo pulls them out, to stand on them, to kick them, and just to make the biggest ridiculous mess he can. When I sit to read to him, he just closes my fingers in the books, um.... OUCH. Bedtime he loves stories. Daytime, he will take THEM on an adventure, and show THOSE books who is boss. So. I'm done. Destroy my house, little people. Take out every stinkin thing you have, and be proud. Show those toys who is boss. And mom. Let. it. go. You can clean them up- and hopefully you have a partner to help you out. And heck, if your kids are big enough to help, make them.
Let them be little, like that Billy Dean song. Kids all grow and change at difference paces, let it go, and let them be the little person they are. (Of course if there are medical interventions needed, duh, do that.) My son is talking later than I'd like- but I KNOW he is fine. I can beat myself up and say that it is because I didn't read him enough stories, or I sometimes just wanted a quiet house so when it was just he and I, that is what we had. I'm still a great mom, because I taught him other things in those moments like enjoying the quiet and stillness, independent play, and exploring his world. I am so lucky to have my kids, and they're lucky to have me.
My children are loved. My children are clothed. My children are fed. My children have opportunities. My children are well cared for. I am enough, I have done enough, you are enough, and you have done enough.
We can all try to be perfect moms, or, we can accept that we're imperfect moms raising imperfect little people. And we're all going to be okay, if we'd just stop making everyone feel like we're not going to be okay.
Love to you, Mamas.
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