Mom Guilt (Written by an expert. Me.)

My brother in law is a pediatrician who's been practicing a while now and he has told me that the most common thing he deals with – yes even more common than runny noses and junky coughs- is mom guilt. Working moms, stay at home moms, moms of 8, moms of 1, rich moms, poor moms, hot moms, frumpy moms, frazzled moms and “seem-to-have-it-all-together” moms all share this common fear with him: “I think I am failing. I feel guilty all the time.”

Shouldn't I be enjoying every second of motherhood? Sometimes I really want to yell at my kid or shake them and so I'm a bad person right? Am I ruining my kid? Shouldn't I be kind and patient all the time? Shouldn't I feel like I know what I'm doing? Shouldn't I feel some beautiful sacred connection to this colichy newborn? Shouldn't I be able to make it through the day without sobbing or screaming or sob/screaming?

And he's said to me, “I just don't get it.” He may be a pediatrician, but he's a dude.

As women, we get it. Don't we?

Not to brag, but I myself have a black belt in mom guilt. Especially having experienced the road of a child with special needs, I cannot tell you how much emotional energy I have flushed down the guilt toilet. Did I do something wrong? Am I handling this right? Am I helping him enough? And when you have a special needs child, you have the added pressure of therapists coming into your home multiple times a week and telling you exactly what to do.

Don't get me wrong, I am forever FOREVER grateful to the therapists who helped me with Jack early on. They threw me a life raft when I was drowning. And they made a huge difference in Jack's life- he would never be doing as well as he is today without those brilliant women coming into my house and coaching him (and me). But as part of their job they evaluated every little parenting decision with me. There I was, a first time mom feeling absolutely scared shitless (excuse my language but I need to paint you a word picture here!) and now I have these professionals telling me what to do. This is how you should feed him, this is how you should react when he cries, this is how you should encourage him to talk, this is how you should play with him. This is why your approach isn't working, this is what we need to work on next.

I wanted to please them, I wanted to do it right, but most of all I wanted to come through for Jack. I tried SO hard, you guys. SO SO hard.

me with little Jackboy.

 I look back on those early years with Jack and I'm proud of myself for how much I really did pour my soul into being everything he needed. But I also look back and I see how it drained me- how it crushed me, really. Fast forward a few years and there I was having daily panic attacks, and it's almost not surprising. I was always telling Orrin “I can't do it anymore.” I just kept saying, “I can't. I can't. I'm not enough. I'm failing.”

Not all moms have experienced the same journey I have (SEE THIS PREVIOUS POST ABOUT HOW I TREATED MY ANXIETY AND DEPRESSION) but I believe they have all felt that feeling of “I can't, I can't, I'm not enough, I'm failing.” Maybe not to the same extreme, but to some degree. The more time has passed and the more I am able to slowly process motherhood, the more I am finding happiness in the idea of just letting the guilt go. And I know that seems an impossible task but let me tell you how I've been letting it go.

The biggest epiphany for me was when I realized that being a parent is like any other human relationship. Might sound obvious to you but legitimately sunk my battleship (in a good way!) Look at your other family relationships, you guys. I'm a daughter, but I don't beat myself up emotionally every time I have a bump in the road in my relationship with my parents. If I make a mistake, I apologize. If they make me angry, we take some space, or talk it out. They are my parents and I love them. As long as we know that, human mistakes are expected and completely irelevant. Or like, I'm a sister. And sometimes I annoy my siblings and sometimes they annoy me. Sometimes we are more distant, sometimes we have periods of being pretty close. I don't lose sleep at night thinking “I'm a bad sibling” if every exchange is not complete perfection.

Look at marriage, even. I love my husband SO much, but sometimes I'm mean to him. I take things out on him, I am accidentally insensitive to his needs, I am impatient with him, or I fail him in some way. Then I apologize, and try to do better. We work together to just survive the bad days, we have fun and enjoy the good days. We are humans- we have moods and ups and downs.

So I would challenge you to think of your children as humans. (Ha! Why is that such a hard thing!) and remember that you have a human relationship with these people. They are individuals, they are not a project you are working on. They are not a reflection of you all the time. Your job is to be in there, building a relationship, sticking with them. Your job is certainly not to be perfect, because you are a human too. Your job is to apologize when things go wrong, not to agonize that you're failing. Your job is to allow yourself human moods- sad, grumpy, angry, frustrated, happy, silly, exhausted and peaceful. Let yourself feel them, let your kids see you feel them. They don't need a perma-cheerful and sweet mom-bot. They need a real human mother who loves them.

Allow them the same courtesy as well. Let them be human. Don't feel devastated if they aren't well behaved all the time. Let them experience and express a full range of emotions without taking it personally. Maybe, just maybe, a child's temper tantrum is NOT about your parenting. Pretty liberating to realize that, right? For me, it was huge.

As much as it helped me to realize that being a mother is like any other human relationship, I also noted one big difference. Other relationships like the one with your mom, your spouse or your best friend, you are able to give AND receive of emotional support. Children are not capable of returning everything you are giving them. They just aren't.

Knowing that, have some compassion with yourself when you feel burnt out. Don't guilt yourself for feeling frustrated with these little creatures. They actually DO take and take and take all day long. They do. So cut yourself some slack. Let yourself have a good cry because you're right, its not fair. You're right, it IS asking too much of you. And then, you have got to advocate for yourself. You HAVE to. Fight to find some “me time”. Fight to find happiness somewhere outside your children. Fight to build yourself up. Do NOT tear yourself down for feeling burnt out. That's just a double whammy.

This seemingly simple revelation that I can view motherhood as an imprefect but everchanging relationship with tiny humans has made a big difference for me. I am still me, I am still allowed to make mistakes and learn. Their well being is not dependant on my every perfect parenting decision. My kids don't need perfection, and I can't give it to them, but they do need me, and I can certainly give them that. And some ice cream, too. We all need that, right? But the guilt? No way.

Blackfishing

I have recently coined a new term to describe what my life feels like sometimes- if I'm having a really bad day I can just tell Orrin, "Watch out, I'm blackfishing!"

Have you seen the documentary "Blackfish"? You should totally watch it if you like being depressed and watching whale attacks. Which, I mean, who doesn't, I guess? I watched it on a particularly angsty Friday night when Orrin was working late again, and it resonated with me in ways I didn't expect.

Basically, orca whales are supposed to swim in a straight line through miles and miles of open ocean, but we put them in tanks and make them do tricks and all they can do is swim in unnatural circles all day. Sometimes it makes them depressed and they float lifelessly still in the tank. Sometimes, it makes them aggressive. I won't get into all the details and the Sea-World-bashing of Blackfish, but it's pretty interesting stuff and wow it makes me feel bad for ever having a Shamu doll.

So how does this relate to my life? I'm totally Tilikum (the main killer whale featured in the movie.) Now, stay with me, because you need to understand that I LOVE my life and my kids and my husband. But the brutal truth is that sometimes I totally feel like a pent up Orca swimming circles around my cage. Some orcas do better than others in captivity- and Tilikum is a prime example of an orca who does NOT do well in a tank. His dorsal fin is depressingly slumped over. On bad days, he tends to get aggressive- he has been involved in many injuries and 3 deaths (of humans. He has also attacked other whales). I'm watching footage of Tilikum and I'm thinking, "I feel you, bro."

Every day I'm in the same tank, meeting the same demands for the same people over and over again. Every night, I'm swimming circles around my tank, knowing it will be exactly the same tomorrow. And the next day. I think, "I could do more than this! I am meant to do more than this! I'm a majestic creature, mmmkay!" That makes Tilikum and I go crazy.

Killer whale version of crazy is brutally mauling your trainer (yikes). My version of crazy is eating 9 cookies and then lying in the fetal position on the floor of my entryway while my two year old says, "it okay, mommy. I take care of you." My version of crazy is snapping at my kids, or or saying "I'm gonna need you to just not talk to me, and leave me alone for like a couple hours" to my husband when he comes in to say hello to me after work. My version of crazy is bawling in Target because I can't find Cheetos. It's not as bad as mauling someone, but still, my dorsal fin is totally slumped over in defeat. And I can't promise you it won't lead to mauling someone. I'm sure Tilikum didn't wake up one morning and think, "Yep, today's the day I'm going to kill a man."

So, now that I have a label for this pent-up feeling I get, I am learning how to prevent and diffuse my blackfishing before it gets to mauling-status. Here are some of the things I've found work for me so far:

-Go somewhere in the car (without kids) and BLAST SOME TUNES. I turn the music up obnoxiously loud. It has the effects of A) making me feel like an annoying punk kid and not a lame mom B) Providing something else for me to have stuck in my head besides the theme song to Bubble Guppies C) Catharsis. Yell some Beastie Boys at the top of your lungs- that'll shake the blackfish rage right off. Do not, and I mean DO NOT!- blast Adele in the car- you're just going to end up sobbing and eating too many onion rings. Blast something stupid and irresponsible- roll up to the Michaels' parking lot with the music bumpin. Bonus points for swear words, sexual/drug references, etc. I'm just kidding, but only a little.

-Eat/drink things that kids don't like or aren't allowed to have. Sushi, fancy salads, an expensive steak, spicy food, caffeine, inordinate amounts of sugar. This small act of rebellion will help you feel that you do at least control somethings in your universe.

-Do your THANG. If your thing is art, music, video games, crafting, cooking, swearing or (heaven forbid) working out, just DO IT. (Insert Shia Lebouf here). You HAVE to do something for you. Even if you think you are too tired, or you don't think it will really help you feel better, just try it, okay? Bonus points if it also gets you out of the house.

-Look back at old photos. This helps give me perspective - kids grow up so fast! Look how far we've come! And also fosters warm, nostalgic feelings towards the kids that I was kinda wanting to strangle (Homer Simpson style, not for reals, don't worry) just moments ago.

-Get. Out.
Leave the tank. Forget about the tank. Go somewhere, see something, talk to someone new. Or just get out of the tank mentally and emotionally- Plan something for the future like a trip, or maybe a graduate program you'd like to do eventually. Remember that this tank is not forever- one day maybe you will be back out in the ocean and you'll be missing the safety of your comfy little tank.

Annnnd that's about all I've got so far. If you can relate, please let me know how you prevent yourself from blackfishing.

And, as a final sidenote:

I still think that's an eye.

A dream is a wish your heart makes- My heart wants to fight everyone

An interesting thing about me is that I only ever have two types of dreams. There may be variations and small subplot lines but they always end in one of two ways. For simplification's sake I will call them love dreams and hate dreams. Both of them, you should know, result in me waking up feeling all stressed and agitated. File this under "Should probably be telling this to a therapist rather than publishing it online." (Possible future book title?)


Love dreams- Don't get excited. Not THAT kind of love dreams. These are the rarer of my two types of dreams, but still happen frequently enough that they deserve mentioning. In these dreams, someone always ends up confessing to me that they are secretly in love with me. And they always have been, but they had to hide it for a variety of complicated reasons they can't get into, but they just can't hold it in any more. This is hilarious for a number of reasons- first of all, apparently my subconscious thinks PRETTY highly of itself. These dreams are not a reflection of my experiences in the dating world (It was mostly crickets until Orrin) nor are they reflections of my perception of reality so I honestly don't know where they are coming from. Too many cheesy romantic comedies? Too many Jane Austen novels?

Sometimes the man confessing his love is someone that I could hypothetically see myself being happy with- like Rick Grimes? Oh, sure. Or someone I used to have a crush on or something. Yes, that makes sense, I get why my subconscious would conjure up a confession of secret love from them. But sometimes it is someone totally bizarre, or who I would never be happy with, or who I barely know. Like, I think MAYBE I might have spoken to him at the grocery store when picking out avocados?

The dream always ends up the same way- I consider returning this person's affections for JUST long enough to make myself feel guilty, and then I remember, "Wait! I already have a husband!" And then I wake up feeling like, crap, I just broke this dude's heart, AND I'm going to have to tell Orrin that I entertained this proposal from (fill-in-the-blank). Neither one of these is actually true. But I always spend a few minutes in that half asleep fog going "Aw maaaaannnn!" It is never a very satisfying experience, except I guess for my subconscious to store away another piece of evidence that every man I have ever interacted with, seen, or imagined is most certainly secretly pining away for me. (Eye rollllll.)

Hate dreams- Okay, these are my bread and butter. You guys, I have a dream that I am all-out fighting with someone almost every night of my life. And I thought this was totally normal for years and years- I thought that was just what people did. Brush your teeth, get in bed, have a stressful fighting dream, wake up, hop in the shower. Until one morning after casually telling him about the previous night's dream, Orrin said to me, "Why are you always dreaming about arguing with people?" He told me he never dreams about tense confrontations with people, but that sounded wrong to me. I just blew him off like "Oh, that's just because he's such a freakishly nice and mellow guy. All normal people dream about hateful arguments every night." The next person I told about my hate dreams was my mom, who found it hysterical. After she stopped laughing at me, she told me that it was not normal, and did I need some money for a therapist? My hate dreams now have a small cult following of people I love, who will text me on random mornings and ask, "Who were you fighting with last night?"

I am not a violent or hateful person. But sure, I can be hot-headed, I guess. I mean, more so when I was a grumpy teenage girl. I genuinely think I'm pretty mellow now. But my dream self is ALWAYS starting up drama. My dream self is always confronting people- and laying down some serious ugly truth bombs with no concern for the path of destruction I leave behind me. My dream self is always angry, and there is always hell to pay. And I don't hold back, and I just burn all my bridges of all my relationships. And I wake up with an elevated heart rate, feeling all ragey and gross. Sometimes it's like a "HOW DARE THEY" feeling and sometimes its like a "Dang, I should probably apologize" but it is always an unpleasant feeling.

Who do I fight with? Ohhhh everyone.

As a small example, last night I dreamt I was in the delivery room, having a baby, but the doctor wasn't coming into the room even though I was in pain. So naturally I grabbed an innocent med student by the collar and demanded she get me a different doctor RIGHT NOW! But it was too late, and I had the baby with just the med student there to help me, and then I threatened to sue the whole hospital and take them all down (Unclear exactly on why but wow my reasons felt justified at the time.). The med student in this scenario was an old friend of mine. (Name withheld to protect identity, also...not someone that I have any conscious issues with at ALL.) I was screaming, ready to tear that hospital apart brick by brick while everyone cowered in fear.

As another example, I frequently dream that I'm spending time with my family at some kind of pleasant gathering and someone says something that vaguely annoys me and I fly off the handle- I just totally lose it, and I tell them all their flaws and everything they've ever done wrong (often imagined, not real issues, don't get insecure, family members) and then I storm off in some dramatic way and then I'm sad that I was such a jerk. It's the worst. It really doesn't feel good afterwards. But wow, have I had some good exits. I always get in that last word- and it's always super cruel and witty and perfect, then I slam the door or smash a vase or what have you. Just the usual. You know, dream stuff.

Rarely do my hate dreams escalate to physical fighting dreams, but there was one time that I punched the little brother of a childhood friend (seriously, I barely knew this little brother) in the aisles of the grocery store because he told me he dinged my car in the parking lot.

So there you have it. I guess I have hidden rage issues, and now they are not hidden any more. The thing is, I actually really don't think it is anger issues- I attribute it more to my anxiety issues. My brain likes to role play these kind of worst case scenarios to get me all upset and guilty and sweaty, just to start the day off on a terrible foot. But it's much more fun (and slightly less depressing perhaps?) to imagine myself as a quiet Mormon housewife with secret hidden rage toward everyone around me-  I'm a ticking timebomb, people.

Tick tock!