I had time to make, eat and clean up my lunch yesterday. Without interruption. (thanks, synchronized nap times)
A healthy lunch, prepared by me, all for me. With no little fingers digging in. I couldn’t help but laugh at how excited I was.
And then I instantly felt guilty for loving it so much.
Writing that down feels silly. Feeling guilty for eating lunch alone. Ridiculous, right?
Yes. Totally… unless you’re a mom.
Because that mom guilt you always hear about? It is real, y’all.
I feel guilty all the time.
Guilty for wanting a break at the end of the day. Guilty for leaving Simon during the week to take his sister to swim class. Guilty for spending time setting up a nursery for Lyla before she was born and just putting a borrowed rocker in our room for Simon. Guilty for comparing the two of them. Guilty for daydreaming about future babies.
And if I’m not feeling guilty about something, I’m just straight up worrying.
Is Simon being stimulated enough? Am I giving Lyla enough one on one time? Have I given Lyla too many snacks today? Have we watched Cinderella too many times? Am I paying enough attention to Simon? Am I giving Alex enough attention when he comes home?
It never ends. This isn’t a complaint, just an observation.
Motherhood is challenging. It’s heartbreaking. It’s guilt inducing. It’s surprising. It’s all encompassing. It’s wonderful. It’s enriching. It’s so much fun.
I love it.