Image from © Lime Lane Photography
Can someone please explain to me the purpose of mother guilt? You know the way mums worry, stress, feel bad, whenever they “let the children down”?
It appears I have doubled booked myself this morning.
This week I received one email, three text messages, and participated in two conversations about our soccer presentation day. However, yesterday morning in a spectacular moment of early onset dementia I booked myself into a course at the exact time of the soccer presentations.
I only realised when my husband mentioned he had run into one of the coaches at the supermarket “did you know it’s presentation day tomorrow?”.
Oh god yes I did know. Shame I hadn’t remembered.
Had to call the child I had let go to a sleepover to rearrange pick-up time – when I told her I may not be able to make it to the presentation her reply was a nonchalant yeah OK.
When I broke it to the other child she said it didn’t matter if I wasn’t there.
Let’s get this straight – the kids don’t care – even the kid I thought would care seems willing to wear it. Let’s bear in mind I have never missed a soccer presentation in five years.
Yet still I tried to figure out a way to leave the workshop early and make it to not one but TWO presentation ceremonies where my child will be on stage for a total of 1/2 a second to receive the standard participation trophy that is awarded to every member of the team.
Then I went to bed and proceeded to have dreams about being at presentation ceremonies but being unable to find the right room and my child missing out on getting her trophy with her team, by the time we found the right room her trophy was standing alone on the dais, uncollected, her team mates long departed. I yelled at the organisers I never yell at people in real life (well not unless they are people I have given birth to).
This morning I’m issuing instructions to my husband, you need to take back the shirt, don’t forget to get sausages for the bbq afterwards, do you know how to find the house where the sleepover is happening?
I’m stressed and guilty.
Why did I book in for a playwriting workshop? OK it’s with the woman who wrote the very successful play we are going to see tonight. People don’t often come to Port Macquarie to run workshops and stuff, when they do I feel like I should support them. But let’s not forget I did four units of playwriting during my degree and all I have to show for it is one clumsy script where I wrote all my angst about my upcoming wedding. How is spending three hours with this woman going to inspire me to actually WRITE something half-way decent when four years at uni didn’t achieve anything?
Why do women wrap themselves up in a suffocating blanket of guilt over their children? Why do we believe we will leave permanent scars whenever we don’t make it to a particular event, or we forget to sign a note, or we don’t buy the right shoes, or … oh I could go on all day.
I know there are some blokes reading this blog – please tell me how do you avoid the whole “guilt” thing? It’s a genetic thing isn’t it? You are grounded in a practicality where you simply don’t see the sense in stressing over that which you can’t change. Need to be in two places at once? Impossible. Pick one and get on with it. Damaging the children – for goodness sake it’s not like you are leaving them unfed, unclean and in the care of wolves – they need to toughen up – it won’t kill them if you are not at EVERYTHING they do.
Yet still I fret and worry.