The List
For the longest time, I didn’t even realize this frenemy was part of my thinking. What I did know was that when I looked at my life, I knew it was (and still is) absolutely full of blessings to savor and celebrate. To feel sad seemed somewhere between silly and ridiculous. Yet so often, I just couldn’t shake a sense of low-grade, self-directed frustration. I knew my emotions were often incompatible with my circumstances, but nothing seemed to help: whether I talked about it, squelched it, prayed about it, tried to push through it, berated myself for it, or worked at cultivating gratitude, the sense of dis-ease lingered on. My inability to cajole myself out of these feelings only made things worse: I was even more frustrated, and pretty embarrassed, too. It seemed best—safest, really—to keep my feelings under wraps and soldier on.
During an especially gray stretch, I finally decided to share all of this with a wise friend—someone I knew wouldn’t make me feel worse about myself, or offer spiritual-sounding and/or simplistic suggestions. In fact, rather than offering a shiny strategy for ridding myself of the feelings, she encouraged me to pay attention to them, to notice the thoughts I had when I was feeling unhappy with myself.
Though her advice initially struck me as unusual, maybe even unnecessarily self-interested, I gave it a try. Whenever I sensed the clouds of melancholy casting their shadows, I tried to find time to record the narrative running in my head by writing down how I was “talking to myself” about the situation. The results of this exercise were surprising and sobering: in a matter of weeks, I’d filled the better part of a journal with all kinds of Mama Guilt’s negative commentary--much of it editorializing on my parenting.
Here’s an example: Let’s say I asked one of my kids to take care of a chore that s/he tends to either forget or complain about doing. Then let’s say the kid forgets again. I give a reminder, which, of course, gets a less-than-lukewarm reception.
Because it’s an ongoing thing, and because (like just about every mom I know), I feel some crazy-intense pressure to make really good parenting choices all the time, I’m faced with a choice: do I give a consequence, do I offer grace, or do I just move on and overlook it this time? If I do decide to address the issue, do I focus on the forgetting part, the complaining part, or both?
I know it sounds crazy, but for me, simply making that kind of choice is difficult enough. And when Mama Guilt weighs in, things get a whole lot worse—especially since most of her commentary stems from her fundamental opinion that I’m simply a bad mom. And she is more than happy to offer an unending list of reasons why:
- You’re a bad mom because your kid had to be reminded to do this chore.
- You’re a bad mom because your kid didn’t do this chore cheerfully.
- You’re a bad mom because your kid had to be told instead of having the initiative to do it without being asked.
- You’re a bad mom because you didn’t give a consequence when s/he didn’t follow through.
- You’re a bad mom because you have the impulse to give a consequence—you should be offering grace and unconditional acceptance to your kid at all times instead of being punitive.
- You’re a bad mom because you don’t know when to extend grace and overlook shortcomings and when to hold your kid accountable for mistakes.
- You’re a bad mom because you are so concerned with whether or not your kid does chores cheerfully; you shouldn’t place such high expectations on your child.
- Ignoring that oversight is going to come back and bite you later on.
- You’re a bad mom because you should be able to figure out how to teach your kid to follow through on a chore while remaining the easy-going, enjoyable, appealing, winsome mom.
- What kind of mom asks her kid to take out the trash? You should really be a servant and do it yourself.
- You’re a bad mom because you are making a mountain out of a molehill.
- You’re a bad mom because you are ignoring a molehill that’s really a mountain: Overlooking that character flaw now will drive your kid’s future friends and spouse (God-willing!) crazy. You will then be responsible for how this flaw puts a wedge between your kid and all of his/her loved ones in the years to come.
- Since you are a bad mom, this scenario is going to happen again and again, which is going to make you grouchier and grouchier, and eventually say something you’ll regret.
- The fact that the above process is going to happen is evidence of your inability to manage your emotions; you’re a grown up now—this shouldn’t be a thing for you, and it isn’t for the good moms.
- The fact that this oversight makes you feel frustrated is evidence of how “small” and ungenerous you are in your bad-mom heart of hearts. You shouldn’t be so nit-picky or demanding.
- If you would’ve been more consistent as a mom by holding high standards for your kids, this wouldn’t be happening to you right now.
- What kind of mom has a kid that can’t or won’t remember a simple little chore?
- You must not be very love-able; if you were, your kid would automatically desire to follow up on your requests. In fact, s/he would even anticipate them before you have to say anything. In fact, s/he would do the chore and ask if there is anything else you need. Better yet, s/he would be so conscientious and servant-hearted (and loving towards you) that s/he would consistently be finding and doing those things without even being asked. That’s what the good moms’ kids do.
- Basically, and obviously, you are not a good mom. If you were, I wouldn’t need to be telling you these things.
She could go on (and on . . . and on), but I’m guessing you get the idea. I certainly do.
And that zig-zag of a litany is her response to one simple scenario . . . during one small part . . . of one day.
What’s worse? I didn’t even realize this stream was spewing in my mind until my friend encouraged me to pay attention. That decision was a turning point for me. But noticing Mama Guilt and trying to argue with her are not the same thing.
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