This Mother’s Day I wanted to post a photo of me and my daughters, with an inspiring phrase about how lucky I am to be their mama. I didn’t think much about it, but it felt appropriate for the occasion. And anyway, I do feel like this most days. Obviously, there are also the days when I don’t feel that happy, when I’m doubtful about my parenting, when I’m tired and exhausted. But Mother’s Day is about celebration and joy, so concentrating on the positive seemed only natural.
I even had a photo, taken the day before Mother’s Day, where I’m cuddling Rose and Lili is smiling and eating strawberries. I was thinking that if we won’t manage to make a new one, this one would show perfectly well how happy we’re all together.
Except that, Mother’s Day came, and found me in a black hole of motherhood.
It started nice though, with croissants for breakfast and kids waking up late. But me and my hubby had some projects to finish around the house. I couldn’t play with my daughters as much, and lunch wasn’t what my four-year old Lili wished for.
And so, after a morning of Rose’s meltdowns and Lili’s attitude, I learned that Lili wishes for a new mommy.(Ouch, that hurt.) A mommy who was born in Canada, and who wouldn’t speak Polish to her. (That hurts even more, especially that raising my kids bilingually is so very important for me!).
I should have ignored it. Or say calmly that I understand that she’s upset but I don’t like when she talks to me like that. But I had tears in my eyes. And so I dressed her against her will and send her in to the backyard to see her dad. I didn’t want to look at her to be honest. I started imagining our bond, deteriorating. Our fights in ten, fifteen years. Her resenting me. Me resenting her. And I cried. It was Mother’s Day , and I felt like a complete failure of a mother.
So what do you do, when your child says she wants a new mommy? What you always do. You breath. You suck it up. You forgive. You don’t take it too seriously. And you do your best.
And so, this is what I did. I breathed and I give her a kiss when she was back. She did excuse herself, after all, and forgot about it all. We played, and the day moved on.
And I repeated to myself as mantra, don’t take it seriously, it’s just a phase. It’ll pass. Then it may come back. But eventually it’ll all pass..