My Little is Growing into a Big

My Little is Growing into a Big

My little girl is growing into a wonderful young woman, despite some of my terrible parenting mistakes. She is gregarious, a little bit mischievous, and well-liked by her peers. Adults enjoy her presence, also; including her parents. She is now sixteen, has a boyfriend and a driver’s license. She loves volleybalI and figure skating.

I am so happy to watch her becoming, but I sometimes miss the sweet moments of infancy and childhood, too. Some of the less-than-adorable moments I wish I could forget, like those times when my parenting skills were not stellar.

When my daughter was four years old, I broke her tender heart and mine. I certainly didn’t mean to, but I did so.

She was in the questioning stage where everything was “Why? Why? Why?” for which I was thrilled and supportive, but exhausted. I wanted, with all my heart, to be the best Mom who was there to answer all the questions, like no one had done for me when I was little, but I didn’t anticipate the desperate exhaustion that comes along with trying to answer every why that is quickly followed up with another why.

Finally, succumbing to the exhaustion, I regrettably snapped “I don’t know! Mommy doesn’t know everything!” My eyes widened with the shock of realign what just came out of my mouth, and the tone with which I said it.

She immediately broke into tears and sobs, insisting, “Yes, you do!”

I felt so awful. And crushed. I crushed her little heart. I crushed her perceptions, her image of who I was. I introduced the humaness of her Mom way before she was ready to consider the idea.

Right away, I hugged her tight to my heart, but there was no way to take that back.

I’m sure she doesn’t even remember it now, but it’s one of those defining moments in my life that stands out to me as a glaring failure in parenting.

Or the time when she was three and she and I were playing. I accidentally smashed her face on the floor. I was horrified. She started bawling, and ran to Daddy, sobbing “Why did Mommy do that?”

My heart sank. I think I started crying, too. And apologizing. I definitely didn’t mean to hurt my tiny child, but I still felt like the worst parent ever. She forgave me shortly, of course, but we never played that kind of game again! Neither she, nor I, wanted a repeat of such a painful experience.

I was 35 when she, our only child, was born to my husband and I. It was a difficult birth. After too much time in labor, she entered the world, but spent the first 24 hours on tubes and anti-biotics. Everything turned out just fine, although I basically remember very little from about the first year of her life, except that I had every desire to be the best Mom.

I chose to breastfeed. Her eating schedule was every three hours - around the clock. I was essentially sleep deprived for months. As much as I tried desperately to be engaged, I felt like a zombie. Thank goodness, we have tons of pictures.

Despite some agonizing hiccups in our relationship so far, she is maturing into such a kind and capable young adult. I am extremely proud of her, so I must be doing something right. I am growing up as much as she is.

Thank you for reading! Am I the only one, or can you relate to the crushing feeling of moments of parenting fails?