Current Mood: Contemplative

I read a post today that linked to another post that inspired me to talk about something that is really hard for me, something I always feel like I am hiding from my peers, peers that are made up primarily of young mothers. Amazing mothers, who cherish their role as nurturer and caretaker and value each and every moment spent with their precious creations. I read blog after blog of these supermoms who are just incredible. The fun activities they do with their kids, the time they spend playing with them, the ease they have in putting their own wants and priorities aside in an effort to first and foremost make their kids happy. I read these blogs and think, "What is wrong with me?"

I am not one of those mothers. Where they are the athletes who were born with natural talent, I am the one still trying to get used to the fact that somehow I got picked for the team and wondering if maybe the coach made a mistake. This doesn't come naturally for me. No part of this is easy for me. Each and every day of the eight years that I have done this has been a challenge of some kind.

I know it's common to hear mothers say how hard parenting is. I know that every mother struggles, that every mother at some point has to remind herself why she signed up for this job. I am in no way trying to diminish what other mothers go through. I am just constantly amazed when I hear moms go on about the wonderful, fun parts of being a mom, because, although I definitely have those moments, they seem to be much fewer and farther between than the norm.

Please don't get me wrong. My kids, along with my husband, are by far the most important thing in the world to me. I love them more than I ever thought it was possible to love something. They are my world. But I will never be that mom who says, "Let's go do something fun this Saturday morning," when there is a bed to be curled up in. I will never be that mom to chaperon an overnight trip because the terror I felt on those things as a kid has never gone away.

I am not writing this in any way to say "woe is me" or "I have it worse than you do." Not at all. It's just that I feel so inadequate as a mother in every way and pray every night that I am not destroying my children because of my shortcomings and selfish tendencies. It is such a relief whenever I hear people like my cousin and cjane express the same kind of frustrations that I feel plagued with every second of every day.

I write this to make myself feel better. Revealing "dark secrets" is always incredibly therapeutic for me. At least now people know what I truly am and I can stop trying to hide the fact that I think I am a less-than-stellar mother. But I also write this for anyone else who may feel like I do, who sometimes wonders what people would think if they knew just how much they struggled with this job that is supposed to come so naturally to us. Just know that you are not alone. SO not alone.