Motherhood

I worry. 

I don’t think I am doing a very good job as a parent. 

I don’t think I play enough with Polly Pockets.  I’m not outdoors playing soccer.  I no longer have an activity corner for them to build crafts. 

I don’t engage in enough conversations about their day and experiences.  I don’t validate enough of what they say, feel and behave.

I haven’t dealt enough hugs, delivered enough kisses, rustled enough hair.

I’m short-changing both the quality and quantity of my time with them.  I’m marring my interactions with emotions not relating to them.

I’m buying their love.  I’m shouting their instructions.  I’m ignoring their messages.

I question.  I doubt.  I strive.  I don’t think this is enough.

I just don’t think I’m a very good parent.

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