To Deserve It

This morning when Echo rolled over to snuggle up and wind her little baby-carrot fingers into my hair she was met with tangles. At night, instead of brushing and bathing I've been making miniature food out of clay. Our girls love these teeny creations and the very best gift I can give them for Yuletime is a new batch of little treats they can spread before their fairies. I started early this year because the time investment is huge. A ketchup bottle might take forty-five minutes, a wedding cake, an hour and a half. I don't know why but making small things that look like big things is extremely satisfying.

Plus, Nathan joins me on the couch and we watch movies while I pinch and roll food items. Sometimes I give him a wad of several colors and he mixes them for me. Crafting, snuggling, movie, I don't mean to sound all matronly or anything but thats a pretty sweet recipe in my book.

So that means tangles. But she didn't seem to mind. She said: Oh Mama. My sweet warm Mama. Some Mamas are mean! But not you. She doesn't think I am mean, I'm so glad. A while back Bella was filling out a pink pre-teen journal thing that asked her for her favorite pop stars, colors, hobbies, and also for a description of her family members. For me she wrote: Nallie, my stepmom, is as sweet as can be. Ready to help and always with a smile on her face. I have to admit I was surprised. It's not that I think I am mean. I know I am doing a pretty good job and never act cruelly, and of course I am happy that they have a glowing impression of me, I only wish my own self-image matched.

Because the thing is when Bella is with us I feel like my face is in a permanent skeptical frown. I feel that way because I am pretty sure it is that way. Bella brings crazy energy, which is enormously fun, but for a parent, also enormously challenging, messy, and scattered. When she asks if they can do something I usually say yes but, not with joy, with lots of furrowed brow, some hemming, some hawing, maybe some grumbling too. Basically like a wound-up Eeyore. 

With Echo I scowl a little less, there is something about smallness that carries with it extra available patience or leniency, but I still have my moments. For instance, while walking downtown the other day, Xi and Echo were in the stroller and literally scratching each other's eyeballs out. We have the kind of stroller where a mesh lid stretches over and clicks into place, so they were very much like caged animals. I pressed my lips to their enclosure, trying to sort things out and witnessed a fingernail slash across a forehead, and several elbow blows. I lost it. I unclicked that latch in record time, whipped the blanket off, grabbed the first arm and yanked the body attached to it right out of the stroller, then repeated with the next. Then I said, Okay, since you can't work out sitting in the stroller together, start walking.

This move, from a parent like me, is akin to a horror movie. The girls were in shock. Frozen on that wind-whipped sidewalk like blind moles thrown into sudden sunlight. They cried. 

I walked maybe three feet with high blood pressure and self-loathing before I returned to their shivering, miserable forms. I'm not afraid of crying, nor do I think they should be free to actually maim one another, but what I did? It was scary to them. I'm pretty sure it falls into the mean category. 

I returned with empathy, let go of all of my expectations for continuing forward, put the dog on a stay so that I wasn't further annoyed by his nose-sniffing wanderings. Eventually we moved on, one child rode in the stroller, the other balanced on top. Neither of them was mad at me. But I was! Oh how sad I felt. For letting my emotional state, which had nothing to do with the girls, interfere. For being scary. Moms can be a lot of things but I think it is nearly unforgivable to be scary. 

Later, much later, when we were eating bagels and scooting figurines about, I apologized. They gladly accepted, the event a mere blip on the map of their ancient past. But I have been slower to forgive myself. I just can't help but wonder how much wiggle room a mom has. How many times can you totally blow it and still be recorded as sweet as can be in the pre-teen journal. Observation has shown me that children, especially girls, love their moms no matter what trauma they drag them through, but that's not the kind of love I am shooting for. I don't want the begrudging kind, the kind that is debilitating, the kind that the kid feels but later wishes they didn't because then their life would be simpler, healthier. 

I want to deserve it.

So here's to a new day, tangles and all. Today I will carry some self-empathy in my pocket, not only so that I do not take my emotions out on my children, but also so that I can forgive myself for past struggles. Today I will be the mama I want to be, the mama I want my girls to remember, the one they store in their dear hearts.

And photos of mini food soon.

 

Comments

[dig this chick]

How many times can you totally blow it and still be recorded as sweet as can be in the pre-teen journal. Experience has shown me that children, especially girls, love their moms no matter what trauma they drag them through, but that's not the kind of love I am shooting for. I don't want the begrudging kind, the kind that is debilitating, the kind that the kid feels but later wishes they didn't because then their life would be simpler, healthier.

Love that. So true. Self-empathy is hard. I have so grabbed and yanked Margot off of Ruby and yelled for her to stop grabbing and yanking on Ruby. And then I realize, in a flash, that I have just done what I insisted she not do.

[Joanna Smetanka]

I totally lost it on the boys yesterday, and I felt, still feel, like a total asshole.

I'm trying to figure out how to not let that happen again. How not to erupt when it feels like I'm going to explode if I don't. How does one erupt in a way that doesn't scare/shame/traumatize their children?

ugggghhh. hard to muster up the self empathy when I feel like such a jerk.

[angela]

love this, "like a wound up eeyore" ...need, need, need self-empathy around here. the hardest times are when my two boys are scratching and hurting, i feel the need to save the one being hurt and so side and seem mean to the other one. then i inevitably feel like i did it all wrong, even when they are passed it. love this post, and your realness in sharing these moments.

"so here's to a new day" with "self-empathy in my pocket" :-)

[Jennifer]

love this. thanks, as always for sharing your moments, the good and the not-so-good. i am finding that hearing other mamas stories of woe to be helpful to my own self-empathy. know that you are not alone in the struggles to be a sweet mama.

[Gillian]

Thanks for that, Natalie. I found this site through Nici, but know you from our pre-natal yoga days (how long ago that seems!) I had an afternoon with Eliana where I just may have crossed the line into mean. And it went from steady and sweet and empathetic to I just can't take this anymore mean. It's all so damn complex but it certainly helps to know that we all go there.

[natalie]

Yes pre-natal yoga seems eons ago, but somehow just like yesterday too. And you are so right, it is all so damn complex, and I wish it weren't but it still is. Thanks Gillian.

[natalie]

We definitely all blow it. I know this, but it only feels really bad when you blow it yourself. We find comfort in knowing that others face the same struggles but still have to live with ourselves as we lay our heads down at night. In each of your comments I can feel the weight of the various moments in which you all lost it. The regret is palpable, the love intense. This mama thing is not easy.

[Jessi]

One of my worst, the kind that burns itself into the back of your mind and wont let you forget it, was last fall.
The semester was ruff to put it mildly, too many obligations, too little time, a failing relationship, and a unbearable amount of daily stress with little hope of repreve until christmas.
I was on the phone with my mother talking about all the horrid events of my day, all the weight that i constantly carried on my shoulder and a fight i'd had with my partner the night before. I hadn't made time to take my dog out for exercise (as was our custom) and he spent and every second from the minute I walked in the door howling and barking at me for attention that I wasn't able to give him. It was the kind of noise that is so consuming that you can't think about anything else, utterly invasive, and bears the weight of everything you're doing wrong as a loving parent-figure.

After about 20 minutes I wound up loosing it in the middle of my conversation with my mom and lashed out at my dog. I had tried everything I could think of to satiate him, food, outside, inside, water, outside again, everything but my empathic love. I started shouting at him and wound up hovering over him in a very dominating way screaming that he stop being so loud. I was in tears when i heard my mother tell me to take a deep breath and take the dog to the park. I was berating myself for all the things that were going wrong in that moment and in that day and in that semester. She said I wasn't a horrible parent, that I loved my dog, that he loved me, and that the best thing i could do for us both was to take some down time, put everything else aside, and take my dog to the park. So I did.

I still carry the guilt from loosing my temper so badly that day with my poor dog. He doesn't speak english, he can't control his energy level or his excitement at my getting home. He doesn't understand my justifications of "too busy to play". All he knows is that I love him and I want whats best for him and I'm responsible for meeting his needs. I have had to learn that some days are just not great days. Some days I'm tired, I'm fried, I can't go the extra mile, and I'm not going to be able to do everything I aim to. But I'm okay with this fact because I know, deep down, that MOST days I try very very hard to be the best I can be. I aim for excellence and succeed more often than I fail. I am able to use empathy with those I love and put myself in their shoes to better understand their point of view. I prioritize showing my love so that I know it happens as often as it can.

I believe that is a good step in the right direction.
I don't have a child, I don't have multiple dogs, but I am learning a lot by trying to use the same skills with the dog I have and love as I would use with a child I might some day have and love. Patience, self acceptance, empathy, support, and above all love. The kind they know and trust because it's honest, real, and expressed healthily as often as possible.

To all the mothers out there who are working hard, working overtime, to be the best mommies they can; you are doing a good job, your children know you love them and they love you in return. They know you're only human and that you try real real hard to be super-mom, and most of the time you do a darn fine job of it. So when you arn't on your "A" game, take a moment, and hug/hold your child and say, "I love you." Its a great way to start fresh in a new moment.