Mommy Dearest

Have you ever noticed that kids and puppies have a lot in common? They're cute, loyal, mischievous, and they'll love you no matter how you treat them. Sure, if you treat them poorly they'll be completely screwed up as adults, but they never really stop loving you.

I worry a lot that I'm a bad mother. Ben and I have been trying over a year for another baby, and we haven't had any luck. I realized today that maybe God is waiting for me to be a better Mom to the child I have before He sends me any more.

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't beat Evie. I don't tell her she's stupid, worthless, ugly, or anything else like that (and she's not). I didn't even put her in time-out when she stuck her cheese to the wall like a sticker or painted the fridge with melted chocolate. I should have, maybe, but no harm was done and she was just being curious.

But I still feel like a bad mom a lot of the time.

I get frustrated pretty easily, especially lately. This morning, I was trying to comb her hair for church and she kept pulling her head away and messing it up. While she was foiling my attempts to pretty up her hair, she was also dumping clips and hair ties into the sink. She was also digging away at my expensive lipstick and trying to apply it to her own lips. (As you can probably guess, she's an excellent multi-tasker.) I eventually got fed up and yelled "Stop it! Fine, if you don't want to have pretty hair, I don't care!" and I picked her up, stuck her in her crib, slammed the door, and left. I then began to cry as I heard her plaintitive wailing coming from the crib, "Mama! Maaaama!!!" Even after my yelling, she still wanted me. She wanted my approval. She didn't want me to reject her. I recognized immediately that nothing she had done was especially naughty, or even malicious. She was just being curious, and keeping herself entertained while I combed her hair. How many kids even let their mothers comb their hair at age two? Not many. I was so ashamed of myself.

I went back into her room and picked her up. We sat in the rocking chair and I told her I was sorry, over and over again. She continued to cry for a minute or two, telling me, "Comb hair, Mama, comb hair!" She felt guilty. I couldn't believe it. She hadn't really done anything wrong, and I had made her feel guilty. I felt like the worst mom in the history of the world.

So I took her back into the bathroom, and told her to pick out some clips for her hair. She chose two, and I put one on either side of her head. It was much easier than trying to do something elaborate like I'd been doing earlier. Ten seconds, and some hairspray, and she was done. We were both happy. Problem solved.

But I still felt bad.

In my mind, I kept thinking "No wonder I can't get pregnant again. Why would God send any more precious children to me when I'm not even nice to the one I have?"

I do think I was probably being a little melodramatic. I try to let Evie have things she wants, when it's a good thing for her to have them. She's not spoiled, but I try to tell her "yes" as much as I can. She eats well, sleeps well, has plenty of toys. We make cookies together, she helps me sweep the floor, we dance in the living room. She's not abused in any way, and I know for sure that she has it a lot better than most kids. I love her more than pretty much anything in the world, and Ben does, too. We have about a bazillion pictures of her all over our house and crammed on our computer. We take her to the zoo, the beach, the playground, wherever.

But on the average day, I don't play with her enough. I sit her down in front of Sesame Street or Sleeping Beauty and go do my own thing. I count the minutes until naptime and bedtime every day. I don't take her outside when she wants to go because I don't feel like it. I don't even get up with her in the morning - Ben does that. I feel like I ignore her too much.

I'm not proud of this, and I really try to find things we can do together. I try to plan activities I know she'll like. I try to be interested in her games and playing. But she's two, for crying out loud! It's really hard to keep focused on one of her activities she likes to do, because they're mind numbing (for me) a lot of the time. Dancing, for example - she likes to hold hands and spin in a circle, over and over again. I get so dizzy, so fast. I can only take it for a minute or two, but as soon as I stop she wants to do it again. I believe she could do this all day. Not only is it dizzying, it gives me a killer headache. So I don't do it very often, even though I know it would make her happy. I tell her no. And then I feel bad about it.

I don't know. I guess I don't really feel like I'm a bad mother, I just don't think I'm as good as I'd like to be. I'm looking forward to the day when she can carry on a real conversation with me. I'm looking forward to playing board games or cards with her. I'm looking forward to hearing her make up stories, or watching her draw creative pictures. She's still so young, though. She's not there yet, and it's a rough time for her. She has so much to share, and so little means to share it. Her language skills aren't super strong (although pretty advanced for her age), and her motor skills are still developing. It must be frustrating for her, probably even more so than it is for me.

It's probably silly to think that I'm having a hard time conceiving another baby because I'm not a good mom. God doesn't work that way. If He can send triplets to a 14-year-old, unmarried mother with a meth addiction, He probably wouldn't mind sending a few to me. I'm in a loving marriage, with good, moral values. My husband and I treat our child with love and respect as much as we can (although you can see that I'm far from perfect), and we would love any other children just as much. We have a steady income, and while it's not much, we're far from starving. We never touch our little girl in anger. We never insult her or belittle her. We go to church every week, and live our religion constantly. We love Evie, and we're always telling her that. We tell her all the time that she's beautiful, special, and loved. There are definitely worse places God could send children than to our home.

So I don't know why we're not pregnant, after a year of trying. It took us a long time to get Evie, too, so I'm sure a lot of it is just that we're not super fertile. I'm also sure that we'll have more kids. God knows when the best time will be for them to come. Their birthday will determine what year they start school, what friends they make, what teachers they have. Timing is essential, and whenever we have more kids the timing will be perfect. God wants all his children to be happy, so He sends them whenever the best time will be for them. I believe that completely. That doesn't mean their lives will be easy, but it does mean that if they make good choices and live their lives trying to follow His will, they'll be happy.

I know God has more children for me. He knows how much I love my daughter, and how much I long to have more children. It may be another year before that day comes. It may be more. But it will happen. And in the meantime, I'll keep trying to be a better mother to the child I already have. She is one of the two most important people in my life, and she deserves a perfect mother. She probably won't ever have one, but I'm going to try my hardest to give her one.