The Good Mom

Late last week, I was reading one of the many blogs I follow and the writer, a mother of three, was lamenting that she'd had some bad days while caring for her children. They were just driving her crazy.

Whooo-boy could I relate.

But then, she went on to say that her husband stepped in and gave her a break because he knows she's a great mom and that if she's having a tough time, there must be a reason for it.

And the relatability went right out the window.

I've given this a lot of thought over the past few days and come to the conclusion that if I thought that Tom believes I'm even just a good mom, a lot of the things he says and does would roll right off my back.

What it comes down to is that I'm not sure how he feels about my parenting skills.

I think he wishes I were stricter. I know he wishes I'd make the girls eat healthier more often. I try. I wish that Alyssa weren't such a picky eater. I wish that mealtimes weren't such a battle. I think that Tom feels like I give in more often than not and that's why we have the battle.

Who knows? Wait, he does. And I'm going to talk to him, I am. Soon.

Because I have enough mommy-guilt and uncertainty on my own. I don't need my partner, the person who is supposed to be by my side, supporting me and my decisions to be the one telling me not-so-subtly that I'm not doing a good job.

And sometimes that's what it feels like he's doing.

Take yesterday, for instance: I was upstairs in the sweltering heat, painting the guest room. Olivia was in the next room over playing.

I called over, "Livie, do you have to pee?"

She called back, "No."

I went back to painting and she went back to playing. I planned on asking her again in about ten minutes or just taking her because it had been awhile.

Five minutes later, Tom walked into the room where O was playing. He said, "Come on, Olivia. Let's go potty."

And so they did. Afterward, he brought her back up stairs, saying, "Let's get you some clean undies, it's not your fault you went a little in your underwear, we need to know to just take you potty instead of asking you."

It's comments like that that undermine my confidence. Did he ask me why I'd asked rather than just take? No. If he had, I'd have explained that I want to Olivia to learn what it feels like to have to go pee. I want her to come to us and TELL us when she has to go rather than just getting used to a timer or a parent telling her when it's time to go. She needs to learn what the sensation feels like and the only way for her to do that is to ask her and make her think about what she's feeling.

But he didn't seem to want to know that. He believes there is a right way and a wrong way to do most everything and I get the feeling that he believes that my way, if it's different from his, is wrong.

I want to be a good parent. I want others to see me as a good mom. Most important, I want the girls to feel I'm a good mom.

I do know how to love my children even if I am not always as patient as I'd like to be. I know how to spend time with them, time that's not about telling them what to do and how to do it but rather just time letting them be themselves.

I feed them. Sure, they get some junk sometimes, but mostly, I feel like they eat well. I hold them and tell them how loved they are. I show them love by comforting them when they're hurt or sad. I listen to them tell me stories and sing me songs. I laugh at their jokes and watch them whenever they call out, "Mommy, watch me!"

I want some sort of acknowledgement that the things I do well are noticed instead of every other thing that I might not do well.

I hate conflict. But I think I'm going to have to suck it up and deal with potential conflict just to get this out of the way. It's festering and that's never a good thing.