The Good Mom

I woke up in the middle of the night last night... as I do most nights.  I had to pee for the thousandth time, and I slowly rolled back into bed, my legs and thighs aching with the weight of our unborn son.  My thoughts turned to my children...

Especially Ryan.

Bringing another little boy into the world has made me think about how I've been raising Ryan and what mistakes I've made.  As a result, a world of regret came crashing down around me... at three o'clock in the morning.

Ryan is my first born.  I had him when I was young.  I wasn't ready to be a mom, but I thought I was.  At the time, I was congratulated for being a "good mom."  I breastfed, I read him stories, I cuddled him and loved him fiercely.  But I didn't like being a mom.  I didn't like the responsibility; the constant attention that one must give a child.  And sometimes this would manifest.  Sometimes I would get angry and resentful.  Sometimes I would expect my son to do things that were beyond his capacity of doing.  I was hard on him.

Too hard sometimes.

Not abusive by any means... but enough for me to feel the guilt. Some may say that the guilt I feel is normal parental guilt... especially when it comes to first children.  After all, the first child is likened to the experiment.  The first child is an introduction to parenthood.  The first child is like the alarm that goes off at 6am... waking you up from a blissful sleep to reality and responsibility.   How do you handle it?  How do you not make mistakes when you're so bleary eyed and confused?

My son is sensitive.
He's creative and loving.
He has a lovely smile.
He's goofy, and has some really silly dance moves.

But he's also spacey, and lacks focus.  He's been diagnosed with ADHD.  He cries at the drop of a hat.  He apologizes profusely if he does something wrong.  He desperately wants approval.  I worry about him.  Sometimes my expectations are still too high... and I have to force myself to back off.  To let him be.  But I'm trying to show more patience.  He's such a rare little soul.  As unhealthy as it may be to think this way, I still wish that I could go back and do things differently.  I know this thought process won't change anything... and it certainly won't help me feel better.  But I'm human.  And maybe the mistakes I made will help me be a better mom to all my babies.