It creeps up in the worst moments. I will be having a grand old time playing with my kids. Or I will be relaxing in a rare moment of quiet. Then there it is: Mom. Guilt.
My thoughts go something like this. Is this how I’m supposed to play with my kid? Should the games we are playing be more educational? Why doesn’t my toddler know all her colors yet? What if I’m doing this all wrong? Why is playing with these damn dolls so fucking BORING? Oh no. I’m a terrible mom. I don’t like playing with my kids. Get out the pitchforks and torches. Force me to wear a scarlet patch on my chest. They are going to drag me into the center of town and throw rocks at me. I should feel grateful for every single moment I get to spend with my kids. They are a precious gift. Why am I rolling my eyes at my precious gift??? Why is my precious gift so damn hard to entertain? I know. I’ll just creep off for some quiet in the kitchen. I sit down at the coffee table with a freshly poured and warmed up cup of coffee. It’s quiet. My toddler is playing happily on the living room floor with her dolls. My boys are playing some video game or other. Have they played too much today? I haven’t seen them in three hours. I’m not monitoring them closely enough. What if there is a predator trying to get at them right this moment and I’m sitting here like an idiot drinking this cup of coffee. Maybe I shouldn’t drink this much coffee. I’m going to put this coffee cup down and go check on the kids. Spoiler alert: the kids are all fine and I’ve fallen prey to MOM GUILT. 🤦♀️
Why do I do this to myself? What possible evolutionary benefit did Mom Guilt offer? I’m sure while humans were scrambling for survival they weren’t so consumed with this bullshit.
My kids are fed and clothed. They have tons of shit to entertain themselves with. Too much STUFF sometimes but that’s another post. I’m so ready to punch mom guilt in the tit and ride off into the sunset with my kids in search of adventure without this ridiculous social baggage. ✌️