Disappointing Our Children

We all come to parenthood with baggage.

Sometimes, its things we remember from childhood that we want to replicate.  And other times, its memories that we never want for our own flesh and blood.

I have suitcases.

My mother was a single mom for the vast majority of my childhood.  She worked second shift (3pm-12am) in a factory which meant that we had lots of babysitters.  Which is probably why I have such a hang up with the minimal number of times that I leave my own children with someone other than me.  Because of her inflexible work schedule, she was often unable to come to sporting events, school programs, and other sorts of things you would want your mom at.  Which is why I probably have a huge fear of not "being there" for my own children.

I find myself volunteering in their classrooms.  My husband was a co-den leader for Sam's cub scouts troop.  And, in general, I always want to be present...even when my children could use a break.

I just don't ever want them to feel disappointed wondering where I was or missing me.

Someone once told me that we will all fuck up our children in some way.  It may not be the way(s) that we were scarred....but invariably, they will be laying on someone's couch telling their woes to someone who will encourage them to read a book about dealing with a mother who was too overprotective and constantly present.

Knowing that its a foregone conclusion that I will disappoint them, I should just let it go.  Instead, I worry.  I want them to know that I tried.  I want them to know that I wanted the best.  And I want them to feel loved. 

The truth is, my mom would echo all of these sentiments for me and I feel them all for her. 

Children...we're bound to disappoint them just as much as we indelibly love them.