I am a good mother

This thought just occurred to me the other day.

I AM a good mother.

So many doubts fly through my soul, torturing me with that "mommy guilt" that my first lactation specialist taught me about.

Annalise was born tongue-tied, which means the frenulum (the flap the ties the tongue down to the underside of the mouth--lift up your tongue and you'll see it) was too short and she couldn't pull her tongue out to latch on to the breast. (Sorry, Adam, that I am talking about breasts.)

So at three weeks, we made it to her two week appointment (we drove to Seattle after she was born for Christmas vacation and had arranged and been given approval from the doctor...you know, back in the beginning stages of parenting when you think you need permission for decisions about your children...) and she was under her birth weight. So I went to a consultant and she saw immediately what the three nurses who tried teaching me how to nurse in the hospital missed. Tongue-tied. So I took Annalise back to her pediatrician and he clipped her tongue with a special U-shaped device and her tongue was fine. I tried nursing Annalise, but still, she screamed through the nursing, and her body weight kept staying the same.

I went back to the consultant with Geoff and she was so wonderful and calm and nurturing to me. She talked to us about "Mommy Guilt". She said that I would always feel it from now on, though my feelings aren't substantiated by any fact of something I've done wrong. It has helped me...but only to some degree. I forget to be aware of this guilt and to be reasonable.

I criticize myself relentlessly about my parenting. After all, being given children is a sacred responsibility; I'd better do it right.

I have a list running through my head about why I'm not doing a good job...

I lose my patience constantly. I raise my voice. I yell. Sometimes, I throw a tantrum.

I don't read to my children every day. In fact, I feel good if it's once a week sometimes.

I turn on the movies and give them their bucket of Halloween candy to devour how they want.

I don't always make them brush their teeth. I put the toothpaste on their brushes and tell them to do it, but I don't fight them when they don't listen.

Sometimes, (and often this past year of migraine survival) their bed sheets don't get changed once a week.

But you know what I do?

I LOVE them. I think they are the greatest children. Sure, they both give me challenges; but I love them. They have the greatest little (and BIG!) personalities and they are going to grow up to be wonderful women. Smart, caring, humorous women.

I WORRY about them. If this doesn't qualify me for being a good mother, what does? Actually, this is a qualification for being a women, isn't it? I look up parenting information online, check out books, ask educated people who know on these things. I ask their teachers how they are doing. I am willing to make changes in my life to make their lives better. I worry that I'm not doing a good job. ...I think a bad mother wouldn't give thought to worry.

I seek INSPIRATION for them from a patient, loving Heavenly Father. I get answers. I follow through. For instance, with Madeline's pretending to nurse all the time and invading my bubble--I am now rocking with her in the rocking chair and feeding her sippy cup of milk to her. She gets nurturing mommy time, and also a line drawn for me. Little things like that are whispered to me to solve my little problems.

I HOLD them. They need affection. I give them affection.

I PRAISE them. My daughters are so confident! I worry (again that worrying!) about their confidence, but I do my best to give them appropriate praise. They both are very vocal about their feelings and how things should be...so I think they will be fine.

I KISS them.

I let them pour ingredients into the bowl. Sometimes. Most of the time I like to get things done quickly...but I TRY to let them help.

I make Annalise put the silverware away and wipe the bathroom counter down. I could do this, again, so much faster. But it gives her responsibility and makes her feel accomplished that she does something to help and makes our home better.

I give them CONSISTENCY. Dinner at six. Bedtime rituals at 6:45. Bedtime at 7 o'clock.

I EXERCISE. I'm "making my bones and muscles stronger." Madeline doesn't like our new gym. But she does want us to have another baby. So I told her that I have to go to the gym to make my bones and muscles stronger (I don't talk to them about my needed weight loss) so that I can have another baby next year.

I MARRIED Geoff. This might be the most important thing on my list of what makes me a good mother. I chose the best man for me and and got very lucky on the good father factor. He gets up with them and gives them breakfast. He takes them out of the house when he can and leaves me by myself for a while. He laughs at my jokes. He makes me feel like I'm doing a good job. He loves the girls. He spends time with them. He is nurturing. He works hard. He is patient with them where I am not. He spends time with me. He likes to. He is my best friend.

It is important to remember the long list of things that makes us good mothers, rather than focusing on the short (though sometimes overwhelming) list of things that we need to work on.

So...what makes you a good mom?