When You Second Guess Yourself as a Parent

“Mooooooommmmmmyyyyyyyyyy!”

My 2-year-old screams as I seek solace in the darkness of my bedroom closet. My knees are pulled into my chest as I sit there, back against the door, like a thief in the night dreading capture. I hear my husband murmur the words, “Mommy needs some breathing time. Let’s give her some space, OK?”

As they walk away, I finally hear what I was craving. Silence.

My sigh of relief is what brought upon the waterworks I had been holding back. The failure as a mom hit me like a ton of bricks.

Is this normal? Am I a bad mom? Why is this so hard for me? Was I not made for this? These are not characteristics of a good parent! Am I doing this right??

That moment was indeed not the last I have had. And you know what?

That. Is. OK.

Those moments of doubt and desperation do not define my parenting. I have those because I. Am. Human.

Although my son sees me as his chef who can make his favorite foods, his nurse who gives miracle kisses and his boo-boos are better, his commander-in-chief who will fight off a stampede of wildebeest for him (we are a Lion King family.)

I am still just me.

It’s OK to have off days. It’s OK to scream into a pillow to let out some frustration. You find hiding away in a closet to let out some tears and a little or a lot of deep breaths to gain your composure works for you? Please do it. Your child does it too. Especially when they throw those tantrums that call attention to half the population in the middle of a store parking lot (you know the ones I mean).

There are beautiful moments in parenting that genuinely allow you to treasure bringing that sweet bundle of joy into fruition. Along with those also come the moments where you’re holding back “not so nice words,” when getting a stray lego embedded in your foot. Breathe it all in.

One day there won’t be random toys to step on all over the floor. No one is tugging at the hem of your shirt, practically tearing it at the seams, begging to pick them up. You won’t hear the word “Mom” said so much you want to change it. There will come a day when the remote control is in the place it should be, because there isn’t a little trickster going around hiding it under the kitchen sink.

Again, breathe it all in, momma. And then take about 20 breaths more because it’s OK to do so.

And remember.

You are not alone. You are a great mom.