Sometimes I’m not a good mom.
I lose my patience too quickly.
I get too wrapped up in what I want to be doing, and forget to consider you. How it must feel to have so little control over your own world. So little say in your life.
Sometimes I get so used to all the many things you can do, that I begin to expect and demand too much. Especially when it comes to your ability to control your own emotions. To say how you really feel.
When you are sitting there – in time out once again – with tears streaming down your cheeks and I see the look on your face that tells me you really don’t understand…it kills me. I’m the one misbehaving. I’m the one who forgot – once again – that you are still only two. Forgot to put you first.
I tell you I’m sorry.
I try to explain.
I tell you how much I love you, as I choke back my own tears. I pray that this won’t be the day I repeat this same mistake over and over again.
What a confusing, mixed message for such a young person.
How do you internalize it? Process it?
I dread the day when you become old enough that all will not be forgiven after a hug and kiss.
I don’t mean to take your love for granted. I am so afraid that one day it will no longer be unconditional. That you will recognize when I am being a bad mom and call me out for it. Make me earn your love and trust back.
I don’t want to have to earn them back because it means I will have done something to lose them.
I’m sorry. For all the times I yell. For all the times I’m not patient.
I hope that, when you are all grown up, you will look back and remember a mom who was loving and playful and kind. Not a mom who was always angry, tired and frustrated.
I hope you’ll always know how much I love you. How hard I’m trying. How, as much as you are new to life, I’m new to being a mom.
I love you. I really, really do.