Parental self esteem

Full disclosure: I am in full-on muddy-headed post-chemo haze, so some of this might be rambly.

None of the parents I know, if asked, will tell you that they’ve got this parenting thing figured out. Not one of them. They all seem confused by their children’s actions on a regular basis, busy, and trying their best to do what’s right for their families, and especially for their kids. Myself included. We all seem to think that, somehow, we’re doing something that will screw up our kid. And, in some way, we probably are. But I’m pretty sure that the fact that we’re even worried about it is a sign that we’re on the right track, and that the amount and type of screwed-up our kids end up with will somehow be lessened over what it might be if we didn’t worry, if we didn’t care about our actions and their impacts on our children.

Sometimes — often, even — I my fellow moms put themselves down for not being good enough at something, for not being able to follow through on something, or for wanting to be capable of doing things that just don’t fall within their field of knowledge, interest, or capacity. I’ve done it, but I’ve tried more recently not to. The ongoing cancer experience has really cemented that for me, although I started paying attention to it last year sometime. I see some of the other moms at Lyra’s school organizing things like group gifts for the teachers, and planning playdates, and going to PAC meetings, and I wonder if I should be doing that. I have friends that sew, and I

I see other moms choosing to stay at home and homeschool their kids, and I think that’s awesome, but it’s also something that I am really not interested in taking on myself, even if it were an option for our family (which it’s not right now). I would be a terrible stay-at-home-homeschooling mom. TERRIBLE. And I see other moms going super-eco crunchy momma, and I love the idea of so many things they do, but beyond that I know I would get irritated with the process of doing those things and ultimately hate it and be resentful of it. It’s not for me. Life is too short for me to take on extra work and activities that I’d be doing alone (because I would be, no matter how hard I tried to force the family to take part) when I could be having much more fun and interesting experiences that both me and my family will enjoy.

I want to have adventures with my family. Little ones, like bike rides and hiking in the woods and playing video games together on Saturday mornings and experiencing well-written cartoons and movies (and a few crappy ones, sigh). Big ones like traveling to new places when we can manage it, or visiting some of the tourist activities nearby that we haven’t gone out to yet, and plenty of things we just haven’t though of yet. Those are on hold until cancer is done with.

So there are a lot of parents out there, who do a lot of different things for their families. I admire many of them for doing those things. I am envious of their talents and abilities, and their drive to do things that I just can’t see myself learning or being any good at, and can’t find the energy or enough interest to learn how and follow through myself. Sometimes I feel bad about this, until I remember that I’m only one person, and I can’t expect to be and do everything that every other person combined is out there doing and being. My children are not going to be irreparably damaged by my inability to sew or can my own food. They won’t be disappointed in my preferring to take part in other people’s teacher gifts plans instead of coming up with something lovely, hand-made and personalized to give to their teacher each year. Not that I wouldn’t support THEM in doing that; but I’m not going to do it for them.

Instead there will be adventure days and Saturday mornings at home playing Ni No Kuni¬†and spending time with each other doing things that we enjoy, and spending time not with each other doing things that only one of us enjoys. Because balance. And I won’t feel like I’m less of a mom than someone else is because they have different interests and priorities than I do. And I won’t feel bad about not doing things that the other parents are doing with their kids because it’s just something that’s done, especially when it’s not something we’re collectively interested in doing as a family.

If I think I’m a terrible mom for not doing what the other moms are doing, it’s bound to come through somehow to my girls. They’ll see me putting myself down for things that don’t make much sense. If it happens to much, they might start to model that behaviour, and I could start to see their self esteem drop because they think they need to do and be all things, as much as I think I need to do and be all things (and perfectly of course, because I like to be good at things I do). Right now they are young enough to be confident about most things, and I love that. I don’t want to be the reason they question themselves.

I just hope that the other parents I know that go through the same feelings of self-doubt and frustration at not being able to do all the things don’t wear themselves out with worry that they’re just not enough. Maybe having cancer and really connecting with life and time has given me some extra focus on my values and priorities. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the things I want to do when I’m not utterly exhausted from the chemotherapy, and none of them are the things that I sometimes think I should be doing to be more mom-like according to other people’s Facebook update standards. I’m okay with that.

I’m owning my so-called failures as a parent, because they’re not failures. They’re just priorities and levels of interest. And we’ve all got different ones.

Silver family
Because these people I’m with are awesome