Mom Crumbs

I know I'm not the only one--in fact, I'm certain I'm in excellent company.  We should form a club or something.  I'll bring the wine.  The group--"Moms Who Feel Like They Give Their Kids Mom Crumbs Once in a While But the Guilt Makes You Think You Do it All the Time" (no catchy acronym for that one!) would likely be filled as quickly as a toddler takes a playroom from tidy to chaos and everyone there would wear the same look of shame--if they weren't too tired to muster that look.

Now, I'm not complaining...and I'm not judging.  Nope.  I'm welcoming.  I'm understanding.  I'm identifying and I'm forgiving.  So these Mom Crumbs I'm referring to (capitalizing that as if it gives it more power or cache), it's my way of defining what I feel like I give my daughter.  In reality, I'm sure that I don't---and that even if I do, her sweet, kind, forgiving 4 year old soul smiles, touches my cheek, tells me she loves me and all is right in the world---that none of us do.  At least not intentionally or without some degree (umpteenth, perhaps?) of guilt.  And certainly, we don't do it as often as our poor psyches would like to make us think we do!

Our day starts, like many of yours I bet, with some snuggle time (how much depends on the day and just how sleepy she is!) and then it's a race to get her ready to leave on time.  Teeth brushed, face washed, hair done, dressed, vitamins then get everyone and everything loaded into the car and we're off.  I try not to lose my cool when she decides to pull out the ponytail I carefully corralled into her blonde hair so that she can, instead, wear a headband (that doesn't match, of course!) she found on the floor of the car.  But, I fail.  And she gets Mom Crumbs.  The bitten off, "In your carseat now, please" or the exasperated sigh and eye roll.

The 10 minute drive to meet my Mom for the drop off affords us some fun time to make up songs, talk about what's coming up in our day.  Kisses, clicks of the seatbelt and she's off.  We pull out of the parking lot, headed in opposite directions and I watch their car in my rear view mirror with a pang of "did I do enough this morning to help her feel loved and safe and confident and happy or did she get Mom Crumbs?"

At the end of the day it's the same gig--by the time I pick her up, I've been at work for at least 8 hours and in traffic for another hour.  I want to get in, get her, and get home where another race of dinner, playtime, bath time and bedtime awaits.  Of course, by the time I'm snuggling her into bed, my eyes are slits and my head is full of the TO DO list that has grown exponentially since I got home.  I try to turn my brain off and be in the moment---but I fail sometimes.  And she gets Mom Crumbs.

And then I think about how I'm teaching her independence in the "just a minute" moments and the "as soon as I'm done" replies.  I think that she's learning to be patient and to understand that Mommy does more than be consumed with her every single need.  Right?  She is learning that---isn't she?  Or is it more Mom Crumbs?

I know that my daughter deserves the best of me, not whatever's left--the crumbs.  Frankly, some days it feels like that's all I've got are crumbs.  I work really, really hard to give her the best of me.  And I work harder still to give myself a little slack so that I don't impose some ridiculous notion of "perfect" on myself.  A notion I'll never quite reach--and frankly, I don't know that I want to reach.

Some of my favorite moments with my girl are the ones where I pull her to my lap, hug her tight and tell her that I'm sorry I wasn't 100% focused right then.  Or I'm sorry I asked you to wait while I finished a conference call.  In those moments, I teach her that saying I'm sorry is important, and meaning it is more so.  I show her that she DOES matter and that I do care about her.  And you know what she does?  She shrugs, kisses me and says, "That's okay Mama.  Let's go play right now."  And we do. 

I don't always make the best choices, I suppose.  I work two jobs.  And sometimes work gets a little bigger than it should.  And while I want my daughter to see that I have value beyond being her Mom, I want her to know there's nothing I value MORE than being her Mom.

I'm not unique; I know that.  And I'm sure there people who handle much, much more in a day than I do.  I get that...it's not a competition. It's a club, remember?  And I'm bringing the wine!

This evening, as we got ready for bed, we talked about tomorrow's first day of school and reflected on all of the fun things we did over the summer.  We even started drafting our Fall Fun List.  As I listened to her rattle off our summer adventures, I felt my shoulders relax and a smile spread across my face.  There were far fewer servings of Mom Crumbs than I had created in my mind.  

When I walk into her room to check on her before going to sleep myself, I'll sit on the edge of the bed, listen to her breathe and know that she loves and is loved.  She is healthy.  She is happy and she is a forgiving little girl who loves her Mommy...crumbs and all!