Whenever I need a good laugh and the kids aren't around I pop in a DVD from the "Sex and the City" series and not only do I get my laugh but I often find myself inspired. I'm not sure whether it's because Carrie is a writer or because Carrie is simply a woman, but I can always guarantee a blog idea emerging from the crazy lives of these brilliant women.
Today was no different. I dropped Nas off at preschool, went to the gym for a 30-minute workout, came home and started some breakfast...meanwhile I thought the company of the SATC girls would be just what the doctor ordered. Samantha said her share of the "F" word, Charlotte whined her way through divorce court, poor Miranda struggled with life as a new mom, and Carrie beat herself up about what she thinks people think of her. I think that in every woman lies a Samantha, a Charlotte, a Miranda and a Carrie, but today I related all too well to my inner Carrie.
At the end of the 30 minute episode Carrie realizes no one is as hard on her as she is. I find that I am constantly beating myself up for not saying this or for not doing that or for forgetting to wish Jay good luck on her spelling test or for snapping at Nas for peeing on his underwear whilst attempting to pee in the potty. I'm not sure why my inner critic is so good at what she does but I need to let up because I'm not doing myself any favors.
There are few days when I see my kids playing together, sharing with each other, hugging and loving on each other, that I think...I had something to do with that. Kids come here a blank slate and if you ask me, we're all inherently bad people, but it's the God in other people that makes us loving, caring, good creatures. I'd have to say my kids got a lot of the good stuff from me and I am very much proud of that.
So why is it so easy for me to abuse myself when I'm not all I think I should be? On days when I just want to "do me" and be left to do whatever it is that might entail, why am I a bad mommy when I need to take that time? When I do take that time?
When I gave birth to Jay I had no idea guilt was also attached to her umbilical cord but it all came out when she did. Jay has nothing to do with the way I take shots at myself, but motherhood seems to breed a new kind of guilt and too many days I take that guilt and wear it like I wear my bra...all day, every day.
Maybe the fear I have of totally screwing up my kids plays a part. Maybe hearing Hollywood blame child-stars' mothers for their kids' addictions makes seeing all the good I do a bit harder. Heck, if my kids are screw-ups it's my fault right? (That's a whole different blog entry)
For me, my kids will grow up and do what they are going to do regardless of my personal beatings so somehow I need to accept my job as their mother, do the very best I can on most days, pray every day and know that God is walking with me through it all. If Natalie's not perfect how can I expect my job as their mother to be perfect?
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