Why I am the perfect mom
As if being a parent were not already fraught with enough pressure and judgement, the social media element just adds to the expectations which are already placed on the reproducing populace. I recall seeing the sanctimommy posts and various [insert random commentary on parenting] articles before I even fell pregnant. Since the expecting stage and now more than a year into the parenting stage, I encounter more and more parenting related posts on my social media newsfeed. This is in part due to the fact that I am involved in more parenting groups and have more friends that are parents, but I obviously also have those super smart analytic algorithms to thank for the fact that my internet page visits and searches get fed into Facebook to allow them to tailor content according to my interests.
So as opposed to just trying to be the best parent you can be for your child, you are now subjected to an unending list of standards to obtain (and maintain) and boxes to check in order to be considered a (barely) competent parent. How do you feed your baby? Did you have a natural birth or C-section? Do you co-sleep? Did you do an Anne Geddes type photoshoot with your newborn? Where do you shop for your baby’s clothes? Did you store your baby’s cord blood? Do you “wear” your baby? Have you lost your baby weight? Do you ensure that her toys are educational? Did you do your research on circumcision? How soon did your baby sleep through? Do you give your baby wholesome organic, sugar and salt free foods? What type of nappies are you using? Did you use medication to overcome postnatal depression? Are you “gender” aware? When did your baby start crawling? Did you manage to keep your house clean while looking after your newborn? What type of travel system are you using? Did you allow your baby to watch TV? Did you go back to work full time? Do you do fun crafts and activities with your baby to plaster all over Pinterest?
But I do not need to worry about the standards and check lists. I am the perfect mom. And here is why:
I was pro-natural birth from the start... but my baby was breech. While there are many who will punt going for a natural breech birth, I was not going to put mine or my child's life in danger just to show modern medicine the finger. So I had a C-section.
I exclusively breastfed my baby… for about a week. After which point I could not produce sufficient milk to meet her growing needs (despite physically and emotionally exhausting attempts to improve my supply).
I put my baby to sleep in her cot… unless she would not settle, then I would cuddle her until she fell asleep. Her cot was also next to my bed.
After needing to cuddle her to sleep, I would put her into her cot… most of the time. Sometimes I needed the cuddles more than she did.
I would only allow her to watch TV when she was able to sit and watch it herself… we were given a wonderful little reclining rocker that we could settle her in in front of the TV.
Ok, so she watched TV, but only educational viewing… Winnie the Pooh, even if Disney made, is a classic literary figure. And no film education would be complete without Star Wars.
I hit the gym as soon I was cleared by my doctor to resume exercise… and completed about 8 gym sessions before I was struck down hard and fast by postnatal depression and could not bear to even think of spending any extra time away from my baby without dissolving into inconsolable tears.
I sought help for my postnatal depression immediately… and started taking antidepressants.
I ensured that my baby was well dressed… in a variety of clothes from a variety of different stores (with variable reputations and assumed quality standards) and even in hand-me-downs.
I seriously considered remaining at home, switching jobs or seeking reduced working hours in order to avoid losing out on precious time with my baby… ok, that one is a lie. I did not consider these options at all. Because these were not options for me. I wished that they were. So I went back to work full time so as to ensure that I could provide the necessities for my family.
I felt guilty about being away from my daughter… and I still often do. But I also started to feel better about myself when I started getting back into the swing of things at work and realising that there was still a lot that I was able to achieve.
And then I felt guilty about not feeling as bad about being back to work… then I realised that I needed to adjust because carrying guilt around only serves to create emotional turmoil. An unhappy parent is not a healthy or good parent.
I introduced solids at the age recommended… by Nutripaeds. Which does not agree with what many other dietitians and baby care experts recommend.
My baby only ate homemade food… unless I had not been able to cook or we were introducing her to a new food type and did not want to purée a full portion of fruit or veg in case she refused to eat it.
Ok, so she ate some readymade food, but I made sure that it was organic… Nah. I call bullshit on myself there. She was given what was on special.
I kept her diet free from sugar as much as possible… until I decided to start introducing the occasional treat so that she could begin to differentiate between good, wholesome foods and sugary snacks which (I hope) will eventually lead to her learning about consuming a variety of foods in moderation.
I ensured her childhood was well documented with photo shoots… well. Yes and no. My husband is a photographer and he did do some photos of her, but very short shoots and only when she was over six weeks old. Most of the photos taken of her were captured with a smart phone.
I kept all of her keepsakes to make a scrapbook to commemorate her young years… I have many keepsakes set aside in a box with the book which was purchased with the intention of making a scrapbook. I have not yet got around to actually compiling the scrapbook.
I did fun crafts with her… if you count using her hand and foot prints for different purposes about three times in the space of a year. She cannot hold a crayon yet and everything that she can grasp goes into her mouth – she is not yet ready for proper interactive crafts.
I fit into my pre-pregnancy clothes… most of them. Some are still too snug for comfort, but they do fit.
I worried about keeping my house clean and stressed about tidying up every time we were expecting guests... then I realised that having squished up peas decorating the floor and unfolded laundry is a small price to pay for the love and joy that having a child brings to one's life.
In case you have got to this stage and have not realised it yet, the title of this blog is complete sarcasm. I am not a perfect mother. There is no such thing. What I am is a mother like any other, I had plans, ideals, goals and guidelines for how I would bear and raise my child. Then real life happened. I was able to stick to some of them, while others I had to allow to change and adapt to the hand I had been dealt. There is nothing wrong with having goals and aspirations for your child, especially when the intention of these is to be a great parent to your child, but you need to be realistic and not allow these goals to eat away at your self confidence and make you feel like a failure if you are unable to achieve them. I am by no means belittling or mocking the mothers who managed to achieve goals that I was unable to or who chose different ways to raise their children. I am simply pointing out how ludicrous it is to imagine that you will be able to do everything perfectly without compromising on something.
While you might look at the way another parent raises their child and cringe, silently (or not so silently!) judging them for things that you deem improper, just realise that most parents are simply trying their best. Yes, there are some who are probably cruising or others who are more concerned with their own egos than doing right by their children, but the majority are just trying to do the best they can with what they have been given. And if the child is happy, healthy and fulfilled is that not all that really matters?
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Pressure. All consuming and completely unnecessary pressure.
But I do not need to worry about the standards and check lists. I am the perfect mom. And here is why:
I was pro-natural birth from the start... but my baby was breech. While there are many who will punt going for a natural breech birth, I was not going to put mine or my child's life in danger just to show modern medicine the finger. So I had a C-section.
I exclusively breastfed my baby… for about a week. After which point I could not produce sufficient milk to meet her growing needs (despite physically and emotionally exhausting attempts to improve my supply).
I put my baby to sleep in her cot… unless she would not settle, then I would cuddle her until she fell asleep. Her cot was also next to my bed.
After needing to cuddle her to sleep, I would put her into her cot… most of the time. Sometimes I needed the cuddles more than she did.
I would only allow her to watch TV when she was able to sit and watch it herself… we were given a wonderful little reclining rocker that we could settle her in in front of the TV.
Ok, so she watched TV, but only educational viewing… Winnie the Pooh, even if Disney made, is a classic literary figure. And no film education would be complete without Star Wars.
I hit the gym as soon I was cleared by my doctor to resume exercise… and completed about 8 gym sessions before I was struck down hard and fast by postnatal depression and could not bear to even think of spending any extra time away from my baby without dissolving into inconsolable tears.
 |
| Source |
I sought help for my postnatal depression immediately… and started taking antidepressants.
I ensured that my baby was well dressed… in a variety of clothes from a variety of different stores (with variable reputations and assumed quality standards) and even in hand-me-downs.
I seriously considered remaining at home, switching jobs or seeking reduced working hours in order to avoid losing out on precious time with my baby… ok, that one is a lie. I did not consider these options at all. Because these were not options for me. I wished that they were. So I went back to work full time so as to ensure that I could provide the necessities for my family.
I felt guilty about being away from my daughter… and I still often do. But I also started to feel better about myself when I started getting back into the swing of things at work and realising that there was still a lot that I was able to achieve.
And then I felt guilty about not feeling as bad about being back to work… then I realised that I needed to adjust because carrying guilt around only serves to create emotional turmoil. An unhappy parent is not a healthy or good parent.
I introduced solids at the age recommended… by Nutripaeds. Which does not agree with what many other dietitians and baby care experts recommend.
My baby only ate homemade food… unless I had not been able to cook or we were introducing her to a new food type and did not want to purée a full portion of fruit or veg in case she refused to eat it.
Ok, so she ate some readymade food, but I made sure that it was organic… Nah. I call bullshit on myself there. She was given what was on special.
I kept her diet free from sugar as much as possible… until I decided to start introducing the occasional treat so that she could begin to differentiate between good, wholesome foods and sugary snacks which (I hope) will eventually lead to her learning about consuming a variety of foods in moderation.
I ensured her childhood was well documented with photo shoots… well. Yes and no. My husband is a photographer and he did do some photos of her, but very short shoots and only when she was over six weeks old. Most of the photos taken of her were captured with a smart phone.
I kept all of her keepsakes to make a scrapbook to commemorate her young years… I have many keepsakes set aside in a box with the book which was purchased with the intention of making a scrapbook. I have not yet got around to actually compiling the scrapbook.
I did fun crafts with her… if you count using her hand and foot prints for different purposes about three times in the space of a year. She cannot hold a crayon yet and everything that she can grasp goes into her mouth – she is not yet ready for proper interactive crafts.
I fit into my pre-pregnancy clothes… most of them. Some are still too snug for comfort, but they do fit.
I worried about keeping my house clean and stressed about tidying up every time we were expecting guests... then I realised that having squished up peas decorating the floor and unfolded laundry is a small price to pay for the love and joy that having a child brings to one's life.
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| From "Babies don't keep" by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton |
In case you have got to this stage and have not realised it yet, the title of this blog is complete sarcasm. I am not a perfect mother. There is no such thing. What I am is a mother like any other, I had plans, ideals, goals and guidelines for how I would bear and raise my child. Then real life happened. I was able to stick to some of them, while others I had to allow to change and adapt to the hand I had been dealt. There is nothing wrong with having goals and aspirations for your child, especially when the intention of these is to be a great parent to your child, but you need to be realistic and not allow these goals to eat away at your self confidence and make you feel like a failure if you are unable to achieve them. I am by no means belittling or mocking the mothers who managed to achieve goals that I was unable to or who chose different ways to raise their children. I am simply pointing out how ludicrous it is to imagine that you will be able to do everything perfectly without compromising on something. While you might look at the way another parent raises their child and cringe, silently (or not so silently!) judging them for things that you deem improper, just realise that most parents are simply trying their best. Yes, there are some who are probably cruising or others who are more concerned with their own egos than doing right by their children, but the majority are just trying to do the best they can with what they have been given. And if the child is happy, healthy and fulfilled is that not all that really matters?
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So if I were to be honest about my "rating" as a parent, I think I should look into ordering this mug. I think I am doing "okay". From one "okay" mom to another – you are doing just fine!
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