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Parenting
The Mother I Never Expected to Be
by Jessica Lane
Updated: April 5, 2016
Originally Published: Jan. 13, 2013
I’m not the mother I once envisioned myself to be. This realization hit me hard yesterday when my child was throwing a fit on the floor, inconsolable because I wouldn’t let him plunge his fingers into the toilet (again). Tears flowed from his eyes; my refusal felt like a deep betrayal.
Seated cross-legged on the closed toilet lid, I couldn’t help but laugh. I mean, seriously, what else was I supposed to do at 5:30 a.m., still caffeine-free, facing the first meltdown of the day over toilet water? As my little one expressed his distress to the universe, I stood up to fetch a towel and clean his hands.
That’s when I caught a glimpse of a strange reflection in the mirror. Who is that?
There she was in all her perfect glory. A sleek braid draped over one shoulder, a hint of blush on her cheeks, impeccably arched eyebrows, and a pressed shirt elegantly hugging her form. As she raised a finger to chastise me, a chill ran down my spine.
Oh no! It’s…the Mother I Thought I Would Be!
I’d encountered her before, most recently while waiting in the Wendy’s drive-thru, ordering fries to entertain my kid during a long drive. As I adjusted the rearview mirror, there she was again, her flawless face staring back, mouth pursed in disapproval.
“You should have ordered the apple slices,” she whispered.
I froze, unable to respond. Blinking to clear my vision, I rubbed my eyes.
“Ma’am…your fries,” a concerned voice said as Friendly Wendy handed me the bag through my car window. I drove a few feet and tossed it in the trash like a lunatic.
Because, my friends, I am haunted. Haunted by the specters of parenting insecurity.
I can’t blame Pinterest-perfect parents for my feelings. My own mother is too supportive to bear any blame. I can’t even point fingers at those pristine moms at the YMCA (seriously, makeup at Boot Camp?). No, my struggle stems from the relentless fear that I’m falling short of the mother I aspired to be—that my child is missing out on something vital.
The Mother I Thought I Would Be would never find humor in a bathroom meltdown. She’d have turned the toilet water escapade into a fun learning moment, filling the sink and splashing away while discussing water displacement. She’d clean the bathroom floor with a light-hearted chuckle and seamlessly move on to the next enriching activity.
I aspire to be her, but I can’t keep pace. She’s busy doing yoga, crafting, taking family photos, and organizing Christmas cards. She embodies everything I wish to be, yet if I’m honest, I can’t stand her.
We would never be friends. I can’t deal with her judgmental lectures or her rigid schedule. Her meals? Not appetizing. And honestly, I’m not even sure where my iron is! I toss my partner’s dress shirts in the dryer (shh, keep that between us).
The Mother I Thought I Would Be? She’s flawless. And I don’t stand a chance in her shiny shoes.
But as I watch my toddler rolling on the tiles, expelling his grief with dramatic flair, I realize—he isn’t the child I envisioned either.
So, I scoop him off the floor, cleaning his hands of toilet water. I gaze into those beautiful green eyes and chuckle.
Yep. We both have our rough edges.
But together, we fit perfectly.
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Summary:
In “The Mother I Never Expected to Be,” Jessica Lane humorously reflects on her reality as a mom, contrasting it with her idealized image of motherhood. Through a series of relatable anecdotes, she acknowledges her imperfections and the struggles of parenting, ultimately finding comfort in the bond she shares with her child despite the chaos.
Keyphrase: The Mother I Never Expected to Be
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