Is motherhood supposed to be this heartbreaking?
Is it supposed to be so full of this fear, dread and guilt?
We wish the best for our kids. We want them to be the most athletic, the smartest, the most talented and sometimes they're just...not. Sometimes they're not extraordinary at anything in the world's eyes and you have to remind yourself that all you really want them to be is who they ARE. And happy.
We feel guilt that maybe they're not a piano prodigy because we didn't play Beethoven to them in the womb with headphones. We worry we didn't read them enough books when they were toddlers. We feel guilt that they learned to read by watching PBS.
We worry that they'll be bullied... we worry that they will BE the bully.
We dread the day that the innocent spark of youth will be lost from their eyes.
We fear the day they want to go to dance class in hot pants and a tank top instead of a pink leotard and a tutu.
We feel guilt because we haven't changed that chore chart in months or even made the kids do chores because it's too fun watching them squeal in delight on the wet trampoline.
We worry we're not giving our kids enough of us and too many "things."
We worry we're either too hard on them or not hard enough. Sometimes the intense love we feel for them rips our heart out again and again which we would gladly do because when it all comes down to it, we would die for our kids.
Then at the end of the day when we've yelled at them three times to brush their teeth and their lights are finally off all they want...at the end of the day... is US. They want mommy. We are ENOUGH for them and they are ENOUGH for us.