Both DH and I had non-stellar parenting moments this weekend with our oldest. Which prompted him to forward me a post titled “I Want To Be A Happier Mom”. I’m sure the author wrote it with good intention, just like numerous other parenting posts out there on the internet, as a reminder for not only the reader, but to herself as well.
Except that these well-meaning posts about how we should pay attention to our kids instead of our iPhone and live in the moment are everywhere. And no matter how many times I’m reminded to appreciate the small moments, to not sweat the small stuff, to slow things down, to enjoy life, to be more mindful, and yes, to be happier, the well-meaning message and the good intention lasts as long as it takes one of my kids to piss me off. Which can go as long as a day (rarely), to mere seconds, minutes or hours after I read one of these darned posts (more frequently).
So the end results of reading these well-meaning posts are that I feel more crappy and unhappy than before I read them. Because, again, no matter how many times I read these posts and no matter how many times I resolve to (insert resolution), they don’t last.
Reading “I Want To Be A Happier Mom” actually pissed me off even more than usual. Of course I want to live a more joyful life and of course I know that it’s the best thing I can do for not only my children, but for myself as well. But what happens when you can’t figure it out? What if you’ve tried and tried and you’ve failed?
I’m pretty positive DH forwarded me the post with good intention as well, but all it did was reinforce this fear I have in a little dark, dank, shameful corner of my heart that I was just never meant to be a parent at all. Because it shouldn’t be this hard to find joy in it and it’s a struggle for me every single moment of every single day. And thanks to this article, now I know it’s because I’m an unhappy person who can’t figure out how to be more happy.
Ugh, I’m babbling at this point. Let me stop writing so I can go work on this happiness thing so my children will have memories of me as smiling and laughing instead of the screaming lunatic when I’m dead and gone.