Throughout my childhood, I can identify one of three scenarios: (A) a near-perfect upbringing, (B) an excessive use of Sun-In that might have led to some brain fog, or, more realistically, (C) my parents navigated parenthood with a level of poise that seems unattainable for me.
This introspection hit me during one of those overwhelming moments of motherhood. It typically unfolds like this:
- I walk through the door.
- My six-year-old, Emma, bombards me with a barrage of questions: “What’s for dinner? Can we have mac and cheese? By the way, you forgot to send in the money for the class winter celebration today, and Lily took my Rainbow Loom! I want it back! Can I go to Ava’s house tomorrow?”
- My ten-year-old, Liam, chimes in with, “I hate mac and cheese! Can we have chicken? That’s my Rainbow Loom, not hers, but she punched me anyway! Oh, and I forgot to mention I need poster board for my project tomorrow.”
- Just when I think it can’t get any crazier, my husband, Matt, informs me that he has a last-minute work meeting and will be leaving in 15 minutes.
Before I know it, the kids are squabbling, I’m shouting at them, and Matt is reprimanding me for losing my cool. Reflecting on my childhood, I don’t remember my parents grappling with this level of chaos. Both worked full-time jobs, yet they managed to raise us without the help of smartphones or the internet. I didn’t text them when I was ready to head home; they trusted that I would be at the designated pick-up spot when they said they’d be there. Family dinners happened every night without microwaves, and clothing shopping meant going to a store and trying things on—an experience that felt torturous but was devoid of screens to distract us.
Despite the absence of modern conveniences, my parents never appeared flustered. So why do I feel like I’m constantly on the verge of a meltdown? With all the technology and resources at my fingertips, why do I feel more stressed than they ever seemed?
And what lasting memories will my children have of their upbringing? Will they recall the times I broke down in tears from being overwhelmed? The moments I yelled out of frustration? That I was candid about my emotions and explained that motherhood can be challenging? Or will they remember the warmth of my hugs, how fiercely I love them, and my daily attempts to make them laugh?
Will Emma cherish the early mornings we spent watching the royal wedding together? Will she look back fondly on the time I officiated her Barbies’ wedding and organized a fun bridal shower for them? Will she remember my playful April Fool’s Day pranks?
Will Liam remember the excitement on his face when I introduced him to Nirvana for the first time? How I cheered for him at every baseball game, even during those scorching July playoffs? Or how, when he decided to try snorkeling this year, I held his hand as we jumped into the ocean together, later pulling him back to the boat when he got tired?
I may never embody the calm, graceful parent I aspire to be, nor can I shield my children from witnessing my struggles. However, I am dedicated to ensuring their childhoods are filled with joyous memories, hoping those moments will define my role as their mom.
And just in case, I’ve kept a secret stash of Sun-In for their teenage years, ready to tackle whatever comes our way.
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Summary
Motherhood is filled with chaotic moments, and despite the conveniences of modern life, many parents may still feel overwhelmed. Reflecting on my own childhood, I ponder what memories my children will carry with them. I strive to create joyful experiences while being honest about the challenges of parenting.