Motherhood and Guilt

The kids went back to school today and even though I had to repeat myself and nag and make breakfast and lunches and remind them about backpacks and snow pants and hats and gloves, it was all good. Does it make me a bad mother that I don't have endless patience, that I grow weary of the constant chatter? Sometimes, when they are with me all day and night, I feel like I can't complete a thought. If there is truly a train of thought, my kids seem to enjoy jumping on the tracks and planting their feet. The train always stops for them - even when I don't want it to.

Intellectually, I know I'm a good mother. My kids have everything they need and they know I love them and they know they can talk to me. They trust me.

But sometimes, there are those other voices that seep in and make me question myself...

...like when I helped the kids make cake pops but was impatient while doing it...

...like when I want and need to write and I let them play video games too long...

...like when I'm glad to see them go back to school...

We compare. We feel guilty. We think of all that we could and should do. We look for our mistakes.

And then, I wonder when motherhood became another thing women are supposed to be perfect at.

But, this morning the kids went back to school and the sun was shining and they laughed as we made our way on the icy sidewalk to the car. We talked about the cold weather and how much better 0 degrees feels than -20. I dropped them at school, went home, and completed a few thoughts.

When I picked up Zeca, I said, "Did you miss me? Did you cry all day?" She said, "Yeah. All day, mama." We laughed and then she said, "You know I just say that so I don't hurt your feelings, right?" I said, "I know, baby. I know."

PHOTO CREDIT: LUISA BRANDÃO