You know that sinking feeling in your stomach when you realize that you’ve forgotten something important? It’s the worst.
I took the boys to preschool today. As I was signing them in the most darling little girl in a fluffy green tutu toddled toward me. And then one of their teachers walked by wearing a huge green bow in her hair. Then I noticed the tiny green footprints painted on the floor. I slowly looked up and surveyed the scene – every single child dressed in green, except, of course, my children. Z had on his favorite grey shark tooth shirt; R was wearing his new blue striped shirt from Nana. Today is the St. Patrick’s Day party where they’re all supposed to wear green, and I totally forgot.
I got in the car and called my husband. “Oh my god, it’s the St. Patrick’s Day thing at school where they’re supposed to wear green and I forgot. They’re the only ones not in green. I feel awful. Now my kids are going to suffer because I can’t get my shit together.” Melodramatic? Um, yeah. I know. But it feels bad. It feels bad to think that your kids might be sad or left out because of something that was within your control. It feels bad to be the parent that forgets things. It feels bad to be trying really, really hard and still not be perfect (I didn’t want to write that word, but that’s the right word because it describes the problem).
As I was driving home I had a few minutes to reflect on the situation, and on my reaction. I get that at the core this is a silly thing – it doesn’t really matter if they wear green today. It’s unlikely this will be the thing I do that scars them for life – I’m sure I’m going to make much bigger mistakes! But the situation highlights a narrative that I just recently realized I’ve accepted whole cloth – that if my kids lives aren’t “perfect” then I’ve failed them somehow.
Mothers (and to a lesser extent fathers) are bombarded with messages, both overt and covert, that we are inadequate. Mothers, especially middle-class mothers, have been indoctrinated into a child-rearing style called concerted cultivation, where they feel obligated to always be providing their children with experiences that will improve and enhance their intellectual and social skills. This style requires their parenting to be time consuming, emotionally absorbing and always, always guided by expert advice. This is difficult and potentially counterproductive from the onset, but becomes nearly impossible when you factor in that 70% of mothers work (75% of those mothers work full time), and that 40% of those mothers are the primary or sole earner for their household. This means that many/most mothers are now balancing unrealistic parenting expectations with full time work, and they feel like they’re failing on all fronts. But they are set up to fail.
A recent article in Psychology Today summed it up well:
“American mothers stood out in their experience of crushing guilt and work-family conflict…The combination of impossible and incompatible ideals of work and home, with a lack of policy and social support for working families, has put mothers in a no-win situation…“I want to tell mothers that this is not your fault. When I tell mothers this they laugh and say, ‘Yeah, yeah’ but I ask them to look me in the eyes. Then I say, ‘This is not your fault.’ And then women start crying. That’s powerful. It is powerful how much women have internalized the idea that if they just tried harder, it wouldn’t be this way.”
I don’t have a solution for the problem. So for now I’m going to let it be enough to recognize that the problem exists, and to do my best to not perpetuate it. I’m not going to beat myself up about the green shirts. I’m not going to apologize for not being perfect. I’m not a perfect mother, but I am good enough.
