Mamas, Cut Yourself Some Slack

A darling little three year-old girl with curls in her hair and glittering shoes went running between two pews at the wedding rehearsal Friday night.


We'd been there for over an hour. She had already practiced her part as a flower girl three times and was getting tired, hungry, and bored.


My sil shook her head and said, "Everyone must think I'm the worst mom! I can't get her to sit still!"


We hear a lot about how we shouldn't judge each other as moms. That we never know what someone else is going through. That we could just be witnessing a really bad moment.


I'm all for that. Depending on when you see my boys, you could think that they are little angels or total demons. When the reality is that they are just your average little boys- they have their good, bad, ugly, and "average" moments.


I might even get up on my soapbox about not judging each other. I'm sure I've even done it on my blog. If I hadn't gotten in late last night after being out of town since Tuesday afternoon, I probably would even go searching for a link or two to prove this point. But, you'll just have to take my word for it that I am a firm believer in not judging.


Not judging others.


But, when it comes to my own kids, to my own parenting, oh, how I feel like a failure.


And judge myself for it.


For things that I would never judge your kids or you for.


Because I'm hard on myself.


At my brother's wedding reception Saturday night, Cub(2), was dancing his little heart out on the dance floor.


I stepped away for a minute to help my oldest at the cookie table, so that he did not eat his way through the whole thing.


Soon, another mom was carrying a sobbing Cub to me and told me that her son(7) had knocked him over and stepped on him on the dance floor.


She was very apologetic. And honestly, I probably wouldn't even think twice about this and wouldn't be blogging about it now if Cub hadn't been so upset that his sobbing turned into puking and he puked right down the front of my dress, forcing us to leave the reception.


But, aside from that.... I wasn't upset that Cub had been knocked over and stepped on. It was most likely an accident. All the kids were dancing together. Even if he was pushed on purpose- well, kids don't know the best way to deal with situations and so sometimes, things like that happen.


What I realized is that I didn't think badly about that child for what happened and I didn't think badly about his mom.


Really, if it hadn't been for the puking incident, this wouldn't even be in my mind at all.


But, if the situation were reversed and it had been my child who had knocked another one over and stepped on him...I would feel awful. I would have a hard time letting it go. Every time that I thought about my brother's wedding, I would cringe and think oh, that poor little one that my son hurt.


I'd feel like I'd done something wrong as a mom. That I'm a bad mom.


But.... if I don't think those things about that mom....shouldn't I cut myself some slack?


Shouldn't we all cut ourselves some slack?


We gave birth to little humans, not to little robots.


Don't get me wrong- I'm not saying that we should laugh off or brush off our children's inappropriate behavior. I believe that it should be dealt with. Absolutely.


And that we should be teaching and modeling appropriate behavior to our children.


I just hope that we can all remember that an incident here and there where our children aren't behaving the way that they should- it doesn't mean that we are bad moms.


Let's all cut each other AND ourselves some slack.

Pour Your Heart Out: Let Them Be Little

If you need more info about Pour Your Heart Out, see THIS post.

But, really, it's anything that YOU consider pouring your heart out.

Please grab the button for your post and link up!

This is the 13th week of Pour Your Heart Out and I've been amazed, inspired, and heartbroken over some of the posts that have been shared. I feel like I know you so much better after reading the posts that you chose to link. Even if you do not participate, try to find some time to visit some of the linkers-you'll find some truly amazing stories out there, along with some new blogs to follow.

Again, just a brief reminder that everyone linking is pouring their hearts out and we should all be respectful in our comments. ;)

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I told you on Monday how I cried like a baby at Monkey's preschool graduation because his teacher set their year-end slide show to "Let Them Be Little" and how it made me sad because I didn't let Monkey be little- and I told you that I'd explain today.


I look at my youngest child, who just turned 2.

And he's SUCH a baby still.

Yet....

When Monkey was that age, I expected him to act more like a big boy than a baby.

Bear was 6 months old then, so Monkey had to play the role of a big brother.

Sit nicely beside Mommy and read a book while Mommy feeds the baby.

Stand and wait beside Mommy while Mommy gets Bear out of his car seat.

Okay- really, just don't squirm out from where I have you wedged in between my body and the truck as I get Bear out...but it's still so much more than I expect of Cub at this point.  I still carry him places most of the time.


Monkey didn't get carried any more at that age unless there was another adult along...actually, not since he was 17 months old and Bear was born.

Monkey at 18 months.

He was mommy's helper and just seemed so much older than he was.

Monkey is the child who is most like me. And so we butt heads a lot.  I know he knows better. He'll even sigh and tell me "I know that, Mom." So, that's just another reason not to treat him like a baby.


When he was even younger than Cub is now, he could hold whole conversations with you. I guess I understand now why people would be amazed at this. Back then, it was just normal for him and with him being my first, I didn't know anything different.


I have written in his baby book for 2 years-old(um, yeah, I kept up with that stuff back then...Cub doesn't even have a baby book, let alone an updated one...), that Monkey kept telling me shortly before his second birthday, "Mommy, let's go to Giant Eagle to get my Blue's Clues cake for my birthday party at Grammy's house."


Yes, exactly like that. With the "to"s and everything. Like a little grown-up.  I would probably freak out if Cub were to talk to me like that right now because it's so not normal.


And I think that him being able to communicate like that was just another reason not to treat him like a baby.  Most of his friends were a year or even two older than he was and he didn't stand out as being the baby of the group, other that a little bit size-wise. And that only added to the illusion that he wasn't a baby any more.

I don't regret having my children as close in age as I did- because I love my boys- but it does make me a little sad that Monkey didn't get as much time to be a baby as Bear did. And with Bear getting sick when he was younger, he was still babied even though Cub was around.  And Cub will always be the baby.

Just another thing to add to the never-ending list of Mommy Guilt. I'm sure later today I'll be feeling guilty about how he gets more of something than his brothers do, so maybe it all evens out....but, I still regret not letting him be little.

And yes, I know that there's still time to let him be little. But, now, he's convinced that he's a big boy and doesn't let me baby him.

5 year-old Monkey