The lilacs are blooming, it’s raining, and it’s spring picture day at my daughter’s school.
For some reason, my children’s elementary schools take pictures both in the spring and the fall. I believe it has something to do with making money for the PTO, but I’m not quite sure.
So, she’s getting ready this morning and I comment that perhaps a different top might be a better choice. (I haven’t purchased the spring pictures in 4 years – what am I even thinking?)
She changes into a different one. I mention that she looks beautiful and also that she needs to take care of the guinea pigs before finishing her extra credit project. No big deal.
15 minutes later, she comes downstairs in a different top. It’s actually much cuter. I say something like – oh do you like this one better? She replies with yes and proceeds to finish up her project.
I retreat into my bedroom and catch up on some of my physical therapy exercises that I haven’t done in three weeks.
I finish, change out of my pajamas, and holler up the stairs that the kids should all get their shoes on. Time to go and such.
She appears at the top of the stairs in the second top of the day. “Why did you change honey?” I ask. “Oh, well I thought since you liked this one that you wanted me to wear it.” she replies
“Why did you think that?” I ask – head beginning to spin.
“Well because you said you liked it and so I thought that meant you wanted me to wear it.” She is choking back tears now.
I can no longer feel any part of my body. It is all over for me.
“My darling, wear the shirt you like. Don’t worry – it’s your picture!”
“But I thought you wanted me to wear this one.”
“No, I don’t care.” Oh – I should have stopped here. Really, really I should have just shut my mouth. But, I did not…sadly.
Inside my head, I am screaming at myself that I am Joan Crawford. How can I be this way? Why is she so timid and afraid? What have I done wrong? Oh no – Oh no – Oh no! It’s evidence plain and simple that I am a terrible mother raising a child that is timid and afraid of her own mother. Gah!! Is there anything worse? No!!! There is not. Fail – Fail – Fail!!!!
“Wear what you want to wear! Don’t worry about what I think! You decide! Be strong! Be decisive! Wear the shirt you like!!” I shout as more fear comes across her face and she chokes back – okay – sorry – okay.
I love it how at that moment yelling at her to be strong seemed like a good plan. Oye! What was I thinking?
I was not thinking of course. I was reacting from my own place of fear.
We all have these momma melt downs and generally walk around carrying shame about them.
Time to repair what I can. It’s all I can do. Gentleness is the way, and it starts with being gentle on myself. The only, only way I am able to do this is because I know – from research and from experience – that holding onto the shame makes it harder to change. Holding onto shame makes us think that we are bad, instead of that we were acting poorly. It’s a profound difference.
I am so sorry dear girl. I love you so much. Momma will try harder to shut the fuck up when the feelings of mothering inadequacy come up. They are for me to deal with – not you.
It can be so hard – don’t you think?
