Shoulding On Myself at the Playground

Seems like as moms, we are always feeling guilty about something.  If we work, we feel like we should stay home.  If we stay home, we feel like we should be entertaining our children and that they should be constantly stimulated and educated.  Life coach Margie Warrell calls it "shoulding on ourselves" and I am certainly an expert.  My latest bout of shoulds came this week.

My daughter has a lot of siblings - steps, halves - but none are her age.  Her steps are all older and her half is much younger.  So this leaves her having to play alone a lot.  Or out of guilt, I play with her.  Most of the time I try to endure another game of "Guess Who" or American Girl goes on a picnic, but sometimes it is just impossible.  Either there are other things to do or I am just flat out bored by it.

A few years back, a British mother admitted that she was bored to tears by her children.  When the story broke, there was a huge outcry, but I could certainly relate.  Although I don't find Ruby boring, I do find some of the games and role playing tedious.  In attempts to balance my wants and my guilt, I try to remember that there will come a day when I long for her to ask me to spend time with her.
Ruby goes through phases.  Sometimes she enjoys playing alone and other times she mopes and says "no one will play with me" repeatedly.  This week was full of the latter and I kept finding myself wishing I had another child her age.  Neither Bob nor I want more kids, and a baby wouldn't fix the problem (too young).  We'd need a 5-9 year old and I refuse to consider adopting just so I don't have to play Polly Pockets...although in the middle of what seems like an hour like play session, the thought does cross my mind. 

On Friday, the schools were off for a teacher work day and Ruby was bored.  Much to my chagrin, none of the local kids were available to play.  So Bob and I took Rubes to the park.  I was praying that one of her school friends would be there too, but no such luck.  Bob and I ended up being the playmates, which I don't mind initially.  But after an hour of "push me higher" and relay races, we were both pooped.  As we moseyed on over to a bench, Ruby sat on the jungle gym, alone, looking forlorn.  My mind immediately went to thinking that I should have played more or should have birthed her a 5 year old sibling.  The final straw came when she tried to make a new friend and the little girl ignored her.  So we left.

Shoulds are unproductive, I know.  I am always saying that guilt is a useless emotion.  Yet, with myself, I allow these feelings.  Guess that is just part of being a mom.  Deep down, I know this isn't a problem I can fix, nor should I.  Ruby will learn from these experiences how to entertain herself and to be independent.  And as I sit here writing, Ruby is in the other room making braclets out of pipecleaners and beads...by herself.

The Rhythm of the Day

This weekend, I found a collection of assorted writings that I've kept throughout the years.  Written by me or by others, they all have some personal significance.

The first, As I Watch You Sleep, was written by Diana Loomans.  I first read it when I was nursing Ruby and have reread it many times since.  In the author's words, I see myself...the impatient, curt Mother I swore I'd never be, but all too often catch myself being.  Also, I am reminded that my words and actions are powerful, especially in Ruby's world.

Many nights, I feel compelled to go back into Ruby's room after she has fallen asleep.  I marvel at her peacefulness.  I listen to her breath.  I apologize for my irritability.  I too, question where I "lost the rhythm of the day."  I thank her for teaching me and promise to do better tomorrow.  And lastly, I tell her I love her just one more time.

I hope all those who read the passage are touched by it as I have been.  It can be found in the book 100 Ways to Build Self-Esteem and Teach Values, which Ms. Loomans wrote with her daughter Julia.