Disclaimer: Everything below is a self-inflicted wound. At
no point did anyone imply that I am a horrible mom or accuse me of being neglectful.
I took care of all of that on my own.
Friends, let me be honest with you about my summer. While at
times you may have seen me smiling and heard me say uplifting, optimistic
phrases, please make no mistake that this past summer was an intense struggle
both physically, emotionally and spiritually. If you need to get caught up, it’s
important to know that for a variety of reasons, both healthy and unhealthy,
exercise is a vital component to my life. And in May, possibly as a result of
my relationship with exercise, I had knee surgery which turned out to be more
invasive and intense than expected. It landed me in a knee immobilizer for
about 10 weeks, five of which I couldn’t put any weight on my leg, and then
very very slowly I gradually added in weight-bearing and flexibility. It has
been five months since surgery and I am still in physical therapy and am
currently working on using stairs. This summer my stress outlet, aka exercise,
was taken away from me and my immobility left me rumbling with multiple demons
ranging from body image issues, to worthiness to perfectionism and shame. For
the first few days, going to the bathroom on my own was my major accomplishment
for the day. It took me three weeks to be able to put on my own shoes. Getting
dressed left me breathless. In July I started the tedious process of relearning
how to walk. From May through August, I rarely got a night of sleep due to pain
and restlessness. I could not carry a cup of coffee or a plate of food due to
the crutches and had to rely on everyone around me to feed and water me. To put
it lightly, this summer was a challenge.
In addition to the physical challenge, summers have
historically been busy times for my husband, who works long hours and would
unpredictably work late or early. There were days he would come home just to
get something out of the oven for dinner because I could not lift and bend at
the same time. At my own job, we were short staffed all summer and our admin
and I were trying to cover two individuals’ jobs and our own. Due to my
physical condition, making it through a work day was a test of my endurance
that by the time I got home I literally had just the energy to feed the kids if
Pete was working and ask them to get ready for bed. There were many tears of
pain, frustration and guilt this summer. Every day ended in exhaustion,
followed by nights of despair from trying to sleep, all to be repeated again.
Friends, what I am saying is that this summer sucked. I tried
to make the best of it and enjoy everything I could but make no mistake. I did
not experience this summer as much as I survived it. And I did survive it. I’ve
run a few marathons and this summer felt like hitting the wall with a hill up
ahead and four miles to go. When the end of August rolled around and I was
finally moving better, starting to exercise (albeit slowly) and finally sleeping at night, I looked back on those months,
panting, hands on thighs, and thought, how the hell did I get up that hill of
life this summer? We didn’t move forward this summer but we didn’t move
backward, right? I don’t want to call it pride, but maybe I felt relief that we
had made it to the other side. I was actually looking forward to starting the
school year.
We were incredibly fortunate to get an amazing teacher for
the Squirrel in first grade. She makes me excited to send him to school every
day. I feel like she will “get” him and his quirks; it is going to be a great
year. And in her amazing-ness, she believes in additional phone conferences to
supplement the traditional conferences. Last week was our first phone
conference where I learned that my Squirrel is woefully behind in reading. I immediately
flashback to the Moose’s struggles in first grade with reading. Six years ago when
I heard the Moose was behind in reading, as one does with their first born, I
jumped to the conclusion that he would never go to college, he would never get
a “good job” and would be illiterate for the rest of his life. Naturally I
freaked out. We had epic battles over sight words and reading to the point
where I flipped out and that moment still holds a place in my Parenting Hall of
Shame. I promised myself after my experiences with the Moose that I wouldn’t
overreact again should this happen with the Squirrel. (FYI, the Moose loves reading now and I have
the insight of knowing that things will turn out okay.) I (fake) calmly tell
the Squirrel’s teacher that I’m not going to freak out. She tells me that he
says he doesn’t read at home and we don’t read to him. Cue that scratchy record
sound where everything stops. Then she tells me that it may be time to panic.
Fuck.
As much as I try not to, I go straight into that shame
spiral. First, I did read to him this summer. It was one of the few activities I
could do with the kids. But I’m not going to lie. We didn’t do sight words and
I didn’t force him to read to me. I just couldn’t. My energy was wrapped up in
me this summer. I was just trying to get through the summer and had to put my
health above things like sight words. I thought I had made peace with the guilt
of not being able to be Super Mom this summer. Consider the peace treaty over. I
let down my Squirrel and now this amazing teacher thinks I’m a horrible,
neglectful mom who doesn’t care about education or her child’s future. Spiral,
spiral, spiral.
You know that Coldplay song, “Fix You”? “When you try your
best but you don’t succeed….” That’s me. I tried my best and you know what? I
didn’t succeed. I let all of this sink in for a while. I really did try my
best. And my best wasn’t my typical best, but it was the best I had. And for
the first time in 12 years, I had to put my wellbeing above my children’s so
that I could get back to being Super Mom. Despite my battles against it, I had
to succumb to my physical needs and rest after going to a grocery store. I had
to take two hour long naps with ice packs after outings. And yes, things like
sight words took a back seat this summer. And now I’m paying the price. My
demons are saying that excuses like knee surgery and a crazy work environment
are just cheap excuses for dropping the ball on something as important as my
Squirrel’s reading level. And while I’m making a list, there are a lot of other
things I’ve let go – can I please get a piece of paper and pen so we can write
them all down?
In my usual fashion, I want to keep this all to myself and
beat myself up for being the terrible parent that I am. Because as I’ve
learned, shame thrives in secrets and really, this is my penance for my
neglect. However, in a rare moment, I break down and email a friend and explain
the situation. She reassures me that I’m not a horrible parent. That this
summer was particularly rough. And she offers help, not judgement. I text
another friend who also reassures me that things will all work out, that I am
good enough. And here I sit, telling all of you my story now. But the purpose
of my story has changed. I’m not telling you so you can tell me that I’m a Good
Mom. I’m telling you because sometimes your best won’t be enough. And that
sucks. But that’s still okay. We fail sometimes and it doesn’t mean that we are
horrible people or parents. There are times we will be running our hardest and
think we are close to that finish line, when we trip and fall. The fact that we
are willing to get up, dust ourselves off, and start running again is what
matters. We may not win every race, but if we try to finish, that’s what
matters.
Much to the Squirrel’s chagrin, the town library sent us
home with a stack of books to work on. And his teacher has sent home books and
sight word lists. And I am only in
physical therapy once a week now and am only
working on learning how to go up and down stairs. I’ve learned how to walk
and have use of both of my hands and while I’m not running yet, I’ve started
the race again. And just like it was with his big brother, I know that we will
get him back on track. And thanks to all of the time I spent sitting this
summer, I’ve been meditating regularly which certainly helps when I’m working
with the Squirrel now.
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