This morning, Sloan came up to me radomly and threw his arms around my neck.
“I love you, mommy,” he said. “You’re my favorite mommy.” Then he kissed my cheek and took off to play, leaving me in a puddle on the floor.
Isn’t it interesting how quickly “mommy guilt” can take over us? From the second our children are born, we mother’s are plagued with fears that we aren’t doing things right. We should have fed them an hour sooner, we should have let them sleep longer, we should have kept them in bed with us, etc… I don’t know a single mother who hasn’t felt guilty or bad about something they’ve done. Yet, ultimately, we all do the best that we know how and we all have to learn along the way. There are times that I feel like an utter failure as a mom. But then, just when I feel like I can’t go on anymore, Sloan throws his arms around me, or Tia cuddles up on my lap and I realize that my kids are awesome, they’re healthy (relatively), they’re sweet (mostly), they’re smart (brilliant) and they love me. Maybe I’m not that bad after all.