Tuesday, February 9, 2010

I Don't Love Being a Mom

And that bothers me.  Don't get me wrong - I love my son more than words can possibly express.  Being a mom, however, is not turning out the way I envisioned it.  I don't know what, exactly, I envisioned.  Probably the "perfect mom" who bakes cookies, does crafts and colors with her child; who is always put together and full of highly creative daily activites.  You know - the Donna Reed type.  Not that I don't ever do these things but they certainly don't come easily.  At all.  Whenever I read an article, status update, tweet, etc. that says, "I love being a mom,"  it hurts.  Because I can't honestly say that.  I am convinced, though, that someday I will. 

I have a difficult child: a speech delayed, strong willed, quick tempered, impatient two year old (yeah, I know: what two year old isn't impatient?).  It's not his fault, of course, that I don't enjoy motherhood but his temperment tests my patience (of which I had little to begin with).  Add that to my dangerous habit of idealizing everything - imagining too perfect scenarios about motherhood, holidays, life - and it's a recipe for disaster.  Oh, and did I mention that I compare myself, as a mother, to everyone?  Not healthy.

Is it remnants of postpartum depression?   Probably.  I take comfort in realizing that things ARE better.  Every now and then I do have that "perfect" day where, for at least a while, I can say "I enjoy being a mom today."

I don't think this makes me a bad mother.  (Ok, some days I do think that but overall I know that's not true.)  I know that the most important thing is that I love my son unconditionally and I do everything I am capable of to make him happy.  No one ever said motherhood was easy.  In fact, I think we've all heard the phrase, "the toughest job you'll ever love."  Sometimes it takes a while to get into the groove of a new job.  I have a lifetime to figure it out.

And yet . . . .

I think I want to do this again.

Call me crazy.