The Second Child Mom Guilt.
I never have really dealt with mom guilt before.
You know, the guilt of- I work outside our home, don't have my child set up for every activity, let my kid..., Didn't let my kid..., The guilt of what we think we should be providing, but aren't?
Yeah- I never have really dealt with that.
Until recently.
With my first child I had all the time in the world to focus on her. And with the addition of a second child- and my first child still requiring lots of attention, I suddenly am struck with mom guilt.
The baby book is pretty bare, the photos are less common. And this happens to everyone. I know, I know. But how do I explain to my second that she is just as loved as my first?
Sweet girl-
There are about 80% less pictures of you than your sister. You wear hand me downs, and play with tupperware more than toys. None of your first foods were organic, and you had tons of sweets before your first birthday. I didn't attend to your every cry, and you often even as a small baby had dirt under your fingernails (I mean how the heck did that get there anyway?). And the other day I smelled your sweet barely 1 year old feet and about fell over. That never would have happened with your sister.
The first moment you were laid on my chest I knew you. I knew you were mine. And because I had parented before, I knew what to do with you. You never felt clumsy within my arms. You immediately belonged to me. Your first smiles delighted me, and your giggles made my heart swoon. You were my second, but in no way were you less celebrated by me.
Yes, I failed at writing in your baby book.
Yes, I don't remember the dates of all or milestones or even what outfit you wore home from the birth center. (Sorry I was tired, I hadn't slept in two years)
But you are cherished. You are lovely. So please forgive me for the lack of photos, or lack of blog posts dedicated to you. I am learning to forgive myself and hope you will be gracious enough to forgive me too.
I refuse to be the mom spending my days feeling guilty about my short comings. Instead I will spend that energy chasing you around. Sculpting you into an acceptable little human, teaching you please and thank you, and pretending to be the queen of your princess castle. I will don a tutu for you and rule with my wooden spatula scepter. And in the end when your baby book is still sparse, and your have about 2.5 pictures of your youth- I hope you remember our adventures. And that you are confident in how incredibly spectacular my love is for you.
You know, the guilt of- I work outside our home, don't have my child set up for every activity, let my kid..., Didn't let my kid..., The guilt of what we think we should be providing, but aren't?
Yeah- I never have really dealt with that.
Until recently.
With my first child I had all the time in the world to focus on her. And with the addition of a second child- and my first child still requiring lots of attention, I suddenly am struck with mom guilt.
The baby book is pretty bare, the photos are less common. And this happens to everyone. I know, I know. But how do I explain to my second that she is just as loved as my first?
Sweet girl-
There are about 80% less pictures of you than your sister. You wear hand me downs, and play with tupperware more than toys. None of your first foods were organic, and you had tons of sweets before your first birthday. I didn't attend to your every cry, and you often even as a small baby had dirt under your fingernails (I mean how the heck did that get there anyway?). And the other day I smelled your sweet barely 1 year old feet and about fell over. That never would have happened with your sister.
The first moment you were laid on my chest I knew you. I knew you were mine. And because I had parented before, I knew what to do with you. You never felt clumsy within my arms. You immediately belonged to me. Your first smiles delighted me, and your giggles made my heart swoon. You were my second, but in no way were you less celebrated by me.
Yes, I failed at writing in your baby book.
Yes, I don't remember the dates of all or milestones or even what outfit you wore home from the birth center. (Sorry I was tired, I hadn't slept in two years)
But you are cherished. You are lovely. So please forgive me for the lack of photos, or lack of blog posts dedicated to you. I am learning to forgive myself and hope you will be gracious enough to forgive me too.
I refuse to be the mom spending my days feeling guilty about my short comings. Instead I will spend that energy chasing you around. Sculpting you into an acceptable little human, teaching you please and thank you, and pretending to be the queen of your princess castle. I will don a tutu for you and rule with my wooden spatula scepter. And in the end when your baby book is still sparse, and your have about 2.5 pictures of your youth- I hope you remember our adventures. And that you are confident in how incredibly spectacular my love is for you.
I'm quite sure no major damage will be done. These things just happen because we are just darn busy living life.
ReplyDeleteLove reading your blog.