On Mommy Guilt

Happy Friday, friends! I had no less than 10 post ideas for what I'm sure was my long-awaited return to blogging (hahaha), but this has been one of those days, so I thought I'd just spill my guts instead. Stick with me, though, because there will be some pretty pictures at the end. Because blogs are supposed to be pretty, duh!

We had a parent-teacher conference at H's preschool today. There was just enough good in her evaluation that the hubs and I all but fist-bumped over our rock star parenting. We are effin' AWESOME at this sh*t, is the exact thought that went through my mind (which is probably not what you should be thinking at a church preschool). But my inner victory dance was short lived, because there were areas of concern. It's kind of like the parent equivalent of an elephant tranquilizer. You sit stunned, yet your mind is still racing, thinking through every possible second of your child's life since conception where you potentially (maybe, likely, most assuredly) screwed it up. I effin' suck at this sh*t.

Mommy guilt is a powerful thing. I've been wearing it around my shoulders for most of today (and many days prior for a countless number of things both real and imagined, truth be told). And while capes were in this season, I have no desire to continue sporting this one on a regular basis. Because it isn't healthy. Because it hinders my ability to be in the moment with my son and my husband. Because it puts the focus where it shouldn't be.

So I'm going to keep this short (for me, anyway) and say that one of my so-called resolutions for this year is to silence the mommy guilt when it starts to whisper, and focus my energy on doing my best for my son, for my husband, for my family, for me. Less inner critic, more inner cheerleader (right, Alicia?).

And now, a few of my favorite pics of mamas and babies...