WARNING YOU BETTER GRAB A BOX OF TISSUES BEFORE YOU READ THIS!
I have never been one to post motherly advise on my Business Blog simply because I know I am far from the expert anyone should be asking. I have talked about my boys before in ways that I love them, how I fear for them, or simply how I miss them at time more than others. Today is one of those days where it's time to break up the normal and admit something I have tried so hard to hide from everyone! I have come across something that really made me think and down right made me cry. So for the first time in a really long time I am going to get down right personal with all my fans out there.
I am sure that many of my fans will be saying "I'v been there" or "I cried right along with you."
I am totally a facebook stalker it's like an addiction I have to check it in the morning, in the afternoon, while I am writing this blog post... Yep sure did just switch the screen over to check the updates. So anyway I was poking around this morning and found this post...
So yes it caught my eye I am was sucked into reading it for over 5 minutes... full of of crap I do thats and many tears but here is what the full posting read,
"Dear Mom,
I’ve seen you around. I’ve seen you screaming at your kids in public, I’ve seen you ignoring them at the playground, I’ve seen you unshowered and wearing last night’s pajama pants at preschool drop-off. I’ve seen you begging your children, bribing them, threatening them. I’ve seen you shouting back and forth with your husband, with your mom, with the police officer at the crosswalk.
I’ve seen you running around with your kids, getting dirty and occasionally swearing audibly when you bang a knee. I’ve seen you sharing a milkshake with a manic four year old. I’ve seen you wiping your kids’ boogers with your bare palm, and then smearing them on the back of your jeans. I’ve seen you carry your toddler flopped over the crook of your arm while chasing a runaway ball.
I’ve also seen you gritting your teeth while your kid screamed at you for making him practice piano, or soccer, or basket weaving, or whatever it was. I’ve seen you close your eyes and breathe slowly after finding a gallon of milk dumped into your trunk. I’ve seen you crying into the sink while you desperately scrub crayon off your best designer purse. I’ve seen you pacing in front of the house.
I’ve seen you at the hospital waiting room. I’ve seen you at the pharmacy counter. I’ve seen you looking tired, and frightened.
I’ve seen a lot of you, actually. I see you every single day.
I don’t know if you planned to be a parent or not. If you always knew from your earliest years that you wanted to bring children into the world, to tend to them, or if motherhood was thrust upon you unexpectedly. I don’t know if it meets your expectations, or if you spent your first days as a mom terrified that you would never feel what you imagined “motherly love” would feel like for your child. I don’t know if you struggled with infertility, or with pregnancy loss, or with a traumatic birth. I don’t know if you created your child with your body, or created your family by welcoming your child into it.
But I know a lot about you.
I know that you didn’t get everything that you wanted. I know that you got a wealth of things you never knew you wanted until they were there in front of you. I know that you don’t believe that you’re doing your best, that you think you can do better. I know you are doing better than you think.
I know that when you look at your child, your children, you see yourself. And I know that you don’t, that you see a stranger who can’t understand why the small details of childhood that were so important to you are a bother to this small person who resembles you.
I know that you want to throw a lamp at your teenager’s head sometimes. I know you want to toss your three year old out the window once in a while.
I know that some nights, once it’s finally quiet, you curl up in bed and cry. I know that sometimes, you don’t, even though your heart is breaking with exhaustion and the weight of crushed expectations.
I know that some days are so hard that all you want is for them to end, and then at bedtime your children hug you and kiss you and tell you how much they love you and want to be like you, and you wish the day could last forever.
But it never does. The day always ends, and the next day brings new challenges. Fevers, heartbreak, art projects, new friends, new pets, new fights. And every day you do what you need to do.
You take care of things, because that’s your job. You go to work, or you fill up the crock pot, or you climb into the garden, or strap the baby to your back and pull out the vacuum cleaner.
You drop everything you’re doing to moderate an argument over who’s turn it is to use a specific marker, or to kiss a boo-boo, or to have a conversation about what color lipstick Pinocchio’s mommy wears.
I know that you have tickle fights in blanket forts, and that you have the words to at least eight different picture books memorized. I’ve heard that you dance like a wild woman when it’s just you and them. That you have no shame about farting or belching in their presence, that you make up goofy songs about peas and potatoes and cheese.
I know that an hour past bedtime, you drop what you’re doing and trim the fingernail that your three year old insists is keeping her up. I know that you stop cleaning dishes because your kids insist you need to join their tea party. I know you fed your kids PBandJ for four days straight when you had the flu. I know that you eat leftover crusts over the sink while your kids watch Super Why.
I know you didn’t expect most of this. I know you didn’t anticipate loving somebody so intensely, or loathing your post-baby body so much, or being so tired, or being the mom you’ve turned out to be.
You thought you had it figured out. Or you were blind and terrified. You hired the perfect nanny. Or you quit your job and learned to assemble flat packed baby furniture. You get confused by the conflict of feeling like nothing has changed since you were free and unfettered by children, and looking back on the choices you made as though an impostor was wearing your skin.
You’re not a perfect mom. No matter how you try, no matter what you do. You will never be a perfect mom.
And maybe that haunts you. Or maybe you’ve made peace with it. Or maybe it was never a problem to begin with.
No matter how much you do, there is always more. No matter how little you do, when the day is over your children are still loved. They still smile at you, believing you have magical powers to fix almost anything. No matter what happened at work, or at school, or in play group, you have still done everything in your power to ensure that the next morning will dawn and your children will be as happy, healthy, and wise as could possibly be hoped.
There’s an old Yiddish saying, “There is one perfect child in the world, and every mother has it.”
Unfortunately, there are no perfect parents. Your kids will grow up determined to be different than you. They will grow up certain that they won’t make their kids take piano lessons, or they’ll be more lenient, or more strict, or have more kids, or have fewer, or have none at all.
No matter how far from perfect you are, you are better than you think.
Someday your kids will be running around like crazy people at synagogue and concuss themselves on the handicapped rail, and somebody will still walk up and tell you what a beautiful family you have. You’ll be at the park and your kids will be covered in mud and jam up to the elbows, smearing your car with that sugary cement, and a pregnant lady will stop and smile at you wistfully.
No matter how many doubts you might have, you never need doubt this one thing: You are definitely not perfect.
And that’s good. Because really, neither is your child. And that means nobody can care for them the way you can, with the wealth of your understanding and your experience. Nobody knows what your child’s squall means, or what their jokes mean, or why they are crying, better than you do.
And since no mother is perfect, chances are you are caught in a two billion way tie for Best Mom in the World.
Congratulations, Best Mom in the World. You’re not perfect.
You’re as good as anybody can get. -Lea Grover"
WOW! & there are the first set of Mommy Tears.
Now 2013 has been a great year for Hildebrandt Photography way better than I would have ever expected or guessed would have happened to my little small photography business. Starting last fall I chose to have Julian (my youngest) start daycare 3 days a week allowing me more time to work and possibly get some more sleep at night than just 3 hours. It wasn't hard at first for me to let him go and play with other boys his own age, but as the weeks turned into months and everyday that I dropped him off he would scream and cry for me to come back for him, each morning it broke my heart even more to drive away. It had even turned into the whole drive home (3 city blocks) would be full of Mommy Tears.
I know that when you read the parenting books this happens to all parents when dropping their little ones off at first then your little one gets use to it and knows your going to come back and they are ok with staying and playing for a little while a few times week. Julian still crus almost every time I leave. Unless I sneak out the door while he is in another room or watching Thomas the train it is screaming and tears. Which just rips me apart every time.
In the past 3 months I have found my work load to become tripled with great new clients, the end of 2013 coming soon, and planning for a bigger and brighter 2014 I just couldn't keep up in a 3 day period and struggled with the hard decision to go to 5 days a week at day care. I thought on this, asked friends for advise, talked it over with my mom, & even cried many nights over just 2 more days a week with out my little guy. This week is the first week of our new schedule of Daycare everyday and simply it is tearing me apart each minute.
Recently I have been struggling with some demons and fears that I am not being a great mom to my two wonderful boys. I fear I am spending too much time away from them, Working way more than I should be, or even getting upset or mad at kids being kids. Then I feel that If I want to have a successful small business I have no other option. I just don't think I am giving my boys all they need with their Father being deployed for so long and now I'm spending so many hours with clients or at my computer in my office.
What am I really doing to them that I just don't see?
How can I fix the damage I have already caused?
What is the damage that I have caused?
How can I be the better mom they deserve?
Right now in this day and time I have no answer for these questions. As I set here at my computer while Cody is at school and Julian is at daycare I think if I spent all my time with them they will be better boys, they will love me more, they will see how much I love them with each and every breath I take.
------ Pause for Mommy Break Down Tears -------
When I came across this mornings posting it made me cry yes, it made me fear that I was a bad mom, & by the end it made me feel at little better about my fears. But it sure can't fix this feeling of regret I have at this moment.
I love these guys more than life itself most days and just want to do the best I can for them!
With this being on my mind so much the past few months I thought it was time to get it all out in the open, because once it's out there I might be able to work out a solution and start being the better mom I fell I should be. As I plan out my 2014 Bigger and Brighter Hildebrand tPhotography year I have to take into consideration of my boys and their needs for my time. So a New Workflow & Schedule will be rolling out in 2014 that allows me to be the Mom first and a Business Owner second.
I hope all my great fans and clients can support me in this moving forward into 2014, because I really do have some great ideas and plans.
Love, Erica!
Many tears were let free while writing this blog post. Please feel free to leave your comment with your personal stories or any words of wisdom. They are always welcome!
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