Mom Guilt

To all you mom friends who are fortunate enough to stay home during the day with your children, I want to give you a SHOUT-OUT for all your hard work! But this specific post is for my Working-Outside-The-Home moms who are trying to balance a career and motherhood...

God knew what kind of mom you'd be, and still
chose to specifically place your children
in YOUR care. 

I recently had a conversation with one of my teacher friends about how her first year of teaching is going. Like most educators (or even working moms for that matter), she felt overwhelmed by everything her new career entails. That wasn’t what troubled her the most... She's struggling with Mom Guilt.

Mom Guilt – when you don’t get to spend as much QUANTITY time with your kid. And even when you try to make up for it, the time isn’t always as QUALITY as you had hoped.

If there’s one common thread that binds all us moms together, it’s MOM GUILT. 

We like to describe ourselves as nourishing, caring individuals who put our family’s needs above our own. And on most occasions, that description is quite accurate.

But then there are those times….

Those times when we have to stay a little later at work because something came up.

Those times we try to not to mentally and physically take work home so we can separate home and work life.

Those times we struggle to live in the moment because our mind races with a thousand things we need to get done.

Those times when we look at our overcrowded schedules, wondering how we’re going to fit in one more appointment, time for friends and family, and still have energy to be a rock star at work.

Those times we look into the bright eyes of the little humans we’re raising and think, “I need just 5 minutes of “me” time away from you.

Those times when we hide in the dark bedroom closet stuffing our face with potato chips in hopes that the kids will work their problems out on their own and fend for themselves for ten minutes. (Hypothetically speaking of course. 😏😉)

The point is that MOM GUILT is everywhere and affects every mother I know. 

Like my dear friend, I too struggle with it.

I’d love to be able to give my boys hours of undivided attention playing in the backyard, followed by a bath and bedtime story each evening when I get home from work. But in reality, between speech therapy and OT sessions, piano lessons, and church events, I know that won’t happen. 

Do I feel guilty about it? 

Of course I do. 

But over time, I’ve come to realize not to be so hard on myself with these things.

For all you moms out there who feel like you’re inadequately raising your child, I’m here to tell you that you’re not. 

You are ROCKING parenthood! 

Your kids are clothed, fed, and loved. Their physical and emotional needs ARE being met, even if it’s not in the way you always envision. They know that you have their backs and will be there for them always.  You’re showing them an example of a strong woman - one who supports her family and engages in selfless acts of kindness daily by spending what quality time with them you can even though you're exhausted.

This is enough.

YOU ARE ENOUGH…As a Child of God, spouse, friend, professional, citizen, and most importantly, as a mom.

YOU ARE A ROCK STAR MOM!🎸

I know that mom guilt won’t ever completely go away, but my prayer for you is that it’ll subside as you realize that your children are blessed to have you as a mom. After all, God specifically placed your children in your household, even though He knew the inner MOM GUILT struggles you’d have. 

Thus, YOU ARE ENOUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Snapshots of Joy

Unless you’ve been living under a rock most of your life, you hear sayings like:

Show of hands – when you hear these “words of wisdom”, does a little man with an angry fist inside your head scream, “Shhh!"

If not, we cannot be friends. 

(kidding.)

Seriously though, we all have issues we deal with on the daily basis. I mean, after all, that’s life, right? And the older (and I dare add ‘more mature’) that we all get, the wiser we become. We realize that life isn’t fair and that both wonderful and crummy things happen to us.

Well, the past year of my family’s life has been quite crummy to say the least. We’ve had better seasons of life, and we’ve had more tragic seasons of life. But, this has by far been the crummiest, toughest season.

For my family, the crummy season started back at the end of August 2016, when three weeks into a new school year, Jude stated having seizures. And since that August, it never really let up for what my children have endured.

As I was going through the start of this crummy season, it was easy to get burdened and depressed about the events surrounding us. One morning, I was praying over the desks of where my students sat before the school day began when a thought occurred to me...

I should find one thing each day that brings me joy, 

a daily blessing of sort, 

and stop to take a 'mental Polaroid' of it in my mind.

It’s a simple revelation, I know. 

But, it’s one that became life altering for me! I began that day. 

It’s interesting how such a simple thing can really change perspective and help keep me in check.

I admit that it hasn’t always been easy. There’s been days where I think that life stinks, and I struggle to find the joys of life. 

Or days that I come back to the same 'joy Polaroid snapshot' again and again because I'm just trying to survive the day. (It’s usually a mental picture of my half-made comfy bed at the end of a long day at work.)

Over time though, what I have discovered is that more things bring me joy than I originally realized. I have never stopped to focus on the positives. It's way too easy to get absorbed in the negatives of life. I've had to train my mind to overcome these harmful, pessimistic thoughts.

It’s been close to a year since I started this mental exercise. Some of the things on my list include:

• Watching my students develop a love for literacy before my very eyes
• A word of encouragement (my love language) from an administrator
• Jude’s hugs
• Sunlight flickering through really cool trees (I have a thing for trees.)
• Jacob telling a story (He's quite animated!)
• Hitting a green light at the right time when driving
• Seeing the “full” light when I fill my car’s tank with gas

You get the picture.

As you can see, these things aren’t large by the world’s standards of “Grand Achievements” or “Lifetime Moments”, but they’re all important in their own way. They cause me to smile, breathe, and in that moment, think positively. They all have meanings behind them that I associate with the blessings I see in my everyday life.

My daily "joy Polaroid snapshots” are the sugar to life’s lemonade I’ve made with the lemons that have been thrown my way. Because as they say:

The Importance of Mental Health

I've come to realize that kids have the same feelings & struggles
adults do. Then why do we try to make them
behave as though they're perfect?

When I say the words “mental health”, what images conjure in your head?

Perhaps feelings of contentment sweep over you like a fresh breeze as you think of things that bring you peace - a yoga class, the beautiful beach on a warm day, or getting lost in a lovely melody of favorite music.

For some people, they may associate the term “mental health” with the thought of lying on an uncomfortable, ugly couch, pouring out repressed thoughts and feelings to an overpaid “shrink”.  

Me?

Well, that second response was actually mine.

Notice the word “WAS”. 

It’s not my response now though.

So what changed?

Well, my definition of "mental health" changed, all because of the journey a dear little boy had to take. A little boy whom I love dearly. My Jacob. 

Jacob’s infant and toddlerhood was ideal. Jason and I spent lots of time and money invested in him, as he was our ‘miracle child’ after our daughter’s death. (I shared a little of her story in the last entry, The Power of Friendship.)

Jason and I took Jacob to museums and zoos, exploring cities and caves, and even jetted him to Ireland on a once-in-a-lifetime family vacation when he was 3 ½. He quickly developed an extensive vocabulary, a love for music of all kinds, and an interest in books.

Everything seemed fine. 

He was happy. We were happy.

When Jacob was four years old, he started saying that he didn’t like himself, which concerned his dad and me. He seemed to have trouble with peers in preschool, and he was moodier than usual. Kindergarten seemed to get a little better for him at first, but then the same problems reoccurred.

As a parent, I was trying desperately to “fix” the problems at home. I tried more discipline by taking away screen time and loss of privileges. I tried sticker charts and reward systems. Nothing seemed to work, and by the time that first grade came around, Jacob seemed more out-of-control than he ever had.

He was having difficulty focusing in school and at home. He was argumentative, defiant, and didn’t have a good handle on his emotions. He was sad one moment, then fearful, and then joyful the next, all within a time frame of five minutes. What bothered me the most were the harsh, negative things he would say about himself.

During this time, I started thinking that I had completely failed as a mom. I even started blaming myself for how Jacob was behaving. I started the dangerous paths of “if maybes”.

“If maybe I would have been stricter, Jacob would have acted better.”

“If maybe Jacob had a better mom <<like so & so >>, then he would be a happier child.”

“Maybe I’m not meant to be a mom. What if my kid can’t ever get better?”

I finally recognized that I was at a crossroads in my parenting. So, I did the only thing I could think to do. I confronted the view I had of mental health, took a deep breath, called up a counselor, and made an appointment for Jacob.

When I met the counselor, she was definitely not the “overpaid shrink” I envisioned from my earlier description. She didn’t even own an ugly couch to lie on either. Her office was decorated with colorful rugs, inspirational quotes, and comfy chairs. She had a treasure box full of prizes, a bin with stuffed animals, and board games. And she greeted Jacob and me both with a large genuine smile.

To my surprise, talking with her didn’t cause my world to collapse. Actually, the contrary happened. Jacob started learning coping skills to deal with his anger. I started learning parenting strategies to implement. And, the counselor’s recommendations helped get the diagnosis process started for Jacob.

“DIAGNOSIS”.
That word was very tough for me to swallow at first.

No mom wants to hear that her child may have something “wrong” with him. Through the process of seeking answers, what I learned turned out to be invaluable to me, not only as a mom, but as a teacher.

I’ve always tried to show kindness and compassion to my students and their families, but found that this journey allowed me to add on a layer of empathy that wasn’t there before. It made all the difference too! I’m more confident as an educator, more understanding as a friend, stronger as a mom, and kinder as a human being in general.

I’m slowly learning not to blame myself for what Jacob went through, and continues to go through on the daily basis.

So, what about Jacob’s mental health now?

Well, after several appointments the past few months, we finally have the diagnoses and a plan in place. 

Jacob has DMDD (Disruptive Mood Dysregulation Disorder), ADHD (impulsive/hyperactive), and Sensory Modulation Disorder.

He takes medicine for the ADHD, continues to attend individual and family counseling with us to help with the DMDD, and has started Occupational Therapy to help with the Sensory Modulation Disorder. The OT is also working with him to strengthen his core, and reinforce the coping strategies he’s learning from his counselor.

Jacob’s journey has also helped me realize the importance of mental health, and even redefine it. So now what images conjure in my mind when I think of “mental health”?

I see…

*Some medicine, but not a lot.
*A smiling counselor’s face.
*An OT’s tailored intervention sessions.
*Prayer from friends and church Small Group.
*Encouragement and support from my pastors.
*A new respect for students in the classroom setting.
*And most importantly, a little brown-headed boy, whom I love dearly, knowing that he’s loved and that he has what it takes to be successful and happy in life.