I did some good parenting yesterday. It was really hard and I almost gave up and gave in. It was made harder by the fact that I’ve been feeling like a really shitty mom lately. I’ve been gone a lot and when I’m here I’m exhausted and short tempered.
I’ve wondered if maybe I was only a good parent to a little kid, and now that she’s older I’m just done.
But yesterday, I was a good mom. Even though there were tears and yelling, even though I literally had to drag her kicking and screaming to the car. Even though I forced her to do something she did not want to do.
Except eventually she did. I coaxed her into the room, and I coaxed her to watch and pay attention. I sat with her calmly and talked to her about the things her friends were doing and the songs being sung. And when craft time came along she was ready to join in.
And as hard as it all was and as angry as I got and as frustrating as she can be, right in that moment I could not have loved her more. Because she made me believe again, that we’re doing okay. That she and I, we’re a good team.
That I am a mom.
And that I still can’t believe the love she brings out in me, almost six years later.