Dear Sweetheart,
Today wasn’t my best day as your mom. The morning arrived too early after a long night, and I found myself dragging out of bed, dressed an hour before your usual wake-up time. When I entered your room, there you were, hair all tousled and a crooked smile lighting up your face. “I up!” you exclaimed, reaching out for me. “I pay wif toys!”
I didn’t respond with a smile, not because my love for you was lacking, but because I craved just a bit more sleep. As the day unfolded, you stuck stickers to the couch, and I grumbled quietly to myself. You eagerly tried to play tag and accidentally kicked me in the chest. In a moment of frustration, I shouted, “BE NICE TO MOM!” But really, I was just venting my frustrations at the world, not at you. I wish you could’ve understood that, and for that, I’m truly sorry.
When I headed upstairs to use the bathroom, you cried out, “NO MAM GO PODDY!” And in a moment of weakness, I snapped back, “Shut up!” Certainly not my proudest parenting moment.
I regret tearing up when you polished off the lunch I had planned for us, hoping to soothe my heart with those chicken nuggets—only to find you had similar cravings. I apologize for putting you in time-out when your plate decided to dance on the table. And I’m sorry I didn’t kiss you goodnight when I laid you down for your nap; instead, I snuck away to the guest room just to enjoy a moment of silence.
I remember my own mother having days like this, when she felt overwhelmed. We kids would tiptoe around her, convinced we were the cause of her distress. I want you to understand that it’s never you. It’s always about the things going on outside of you and my heart. Tomorrow, after a refreshing Diet Coke, a gripping crime show, and a bit of rest, I vow to be better.
Being a parent means sacrificing my personal desires at times, and while it shapes me into a better person, it can also be incredibly challenging. You don’t need to comprehend this now, but one day, when you do, I hope you’ll see the effort I’m making, even when my best doesn’t look perfect.
I hear you stirring from your nap, singing Taylor Swift and shouting, “Neber, eber, EBER!” along with some chatter about a rubber ducky. I’ll be right there. We’ll munch on fruit snacks, read some stories, and stick those stickers back on the couch.
Tomorrow, I’ll give it another try.
With all my love,
Your Mom