Mom Guilt- My First Experience

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, mom-guilt is a mother …

Most of the time, the guilt is just intrusive thoughts making your fears large enough to take over your feelings, because you think it should. It’s something we have to go through to show we care enough about our kids. To give them all that they deserve. We drive ourselves into the ground because of this subconscious thinking.

A lot of the guilt you learn to shake off because you know there is nothing to feel badly about.

But, that first time you experience it? You never see it coming. You don’t know how to handle it.

And it really sticks with you. It’s the moment you learn of this new monster living in your subconscious you have to be aware of.

This is the story of my first mom guilt experience.

When Bodhi was a baby, we got into a routine of taking a lot of walks together.

It was the era of COVID, so there really wasn’t much else to do.

Around four months, we started taking walks at the local park. The first time I took him, I put him in the baby swing. The immediate joy and happiness he had from that swing, just warmed my heart. He would kick his little feet in the air with so much excitement.

This quickly became my favorite part of the day.

We would go on a walk around the park and stop off by the swings before leaving. I just had to see that big smile and hear his little giggle as he swung.

This one particular day, I woke up in an off mood.

I really didn’t feel like doing anything, so I kept putting off our daily walk. I felt bad about it, because we needed the fresh air and to get out of our tiny apartment, but, I just couldn't bring myself to it.

After his later nap, I decided just to get out and go. It was a busier time at the park as it was after school. The swings were occupied when we got there. I figured by the time we went around the loop, we’d come back to free swings.

We came back around to occupied swings.

I took Bodhi off to the side to eat a snack as we passed the time patiently waiting. He sat in his stroller staring towards the swings. I could tell he wanted to go over there. It started to make me antsy.

He was probably ten months, so he was very aware of his surroundings. He recognized the swings, which made me realize how much they meant to him. I couldn't explain to him why he wasn’t on the swings. He doesn’t understand waiting turns. I am just the lady making him sit off to the side watching everyone else have fun without him. This started to get to me.

I couldn't believe that the same people had been on the swings this whole time. I battled with how ridiculous it was to be my age waiting for a swing, but in the end it wasn’t for me. It was for Bodhi, who at this point started grunting and trying to wiggle out of his seat like he was ready to go.

So many intrusive thoughts ran through my head:

Is it even safe for the small child to be on a swing for more than twenty-minutes at a time??

Do I go over and ask for a turn?

Do I count to 60 like we used to in the school yard?

Tell them they’ve been on it too long and thats not fair.

The questions circling my mind felt childish and insane. It’s just a swing.

However, that’s what mom-guilt does to you. It makes the smallest thing that your kid loves into a big ordeal that your instinct is to give it to them right then.

These swings were not something I could just hand him over. I had to work hard to get them.

I came up with a “solution.”

I got up and move the stroller closer to the swings. Maybe the bench off the side wasn’t obvious enough we were waiting.

We stood about six feet away from the swings. And just stared. I was trying to make it as obvious as possible we were waiting.

Hindsight, yes maybe that was ridiculous. I just couldn’t think of a better solution.

I was fighting the guilt with rationality.

The guilt was telling me to go over there and ask for a turn so Bodhi can have fun too, but my sanity part is too timid to intrude and ask someone such a bold question.

We waited for another five-ish minutes standing awkwardly waiting. Not a nod, “hello,” or acknowledgement of any kind.

Bodhi wasn’t going to last much longer in the stroller.

It was getting late and I needed to make dinner.

I began a slow walk back to the car. Every few feet I would turn to look at the swings. AND THEY WERE STILL ON THEM.

I was hoping that maybe they’d get off before I reached the parking lot so I could run back and give him what he wanted, but it never happened.

I cried the whole way home.

I remember being so mad at myself for being lazy and not getting to the park earlier. “It wouldn't have happened” if I stuck with my normal schedule.

I was angry that I didn’t stand up for Bodhi and ask for a turn because he couldn't do it himself.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how “sad” he was that he didn’t get to do the one thing he loved.

In the end, none of that is true.

It wasn’t my fault because I felt like having a slow day. I’m not a weak person or a bad mom for not asking for a turn. And Bodhi most definitely did not remember that experience after.

Yes, in the moment, it’s a huge deal. All my feelings were valid and behind it all was the principle of wanting to do our best and try our hardest to give our kids what they want.

What really matters, is I have the drive to do it. That I will, in most cases, give my kids what is needed.

Mom-guilt is a little monster we let take over.

It’s just another intrusive thought we need to fight to not show any power to.