We Do It To Ourselves

Mommies, nothing sums up motherhood better than guilt. OK, well I suppose love would also do quite nicely, but for today the word is guilt. We’re often made to feel like we’re not doing something well enough, fast enough, or often enough. And usually, we are the main culprit.

Take the other night for instance. I really, really, needed to wash my ass. For reals. Donny and Jack had fallen asleep, but there was no way I could go to bed in my current state. I needed to shower. I can’t go to bed dirty. Never could. Back in my younger (sigh) partying days, no matter how tired and/or inebriated I was, I’d always have to bathe before getting in bed. I figured the next morning’s hangover would be bad enough without adding a pillowcase covered in make-up, tequila-flavored drool, and regret to the mix.

Anyway, I was in the bathroom doing my pre-shower ritual (brushing teeth, q-tip eargasm) when I thought I heard Jack crying. I opened the bathroom door and peeked into the bedroom. At the same moment, Donny woke up and immediately turned to look at Jack who was lying flat on his back in the middle of the bed. His legs were spread-eagle, his head was thrown back, and his mouth was wide open. He was knocked out.

“He’s fine,” Donny said laying his head back down.

I went back into the bathroom and began to gather up my clothes and turn off the shower I had running so the water would get super hot like I like it. Donny said he was fine. I’d seen with my own two eyes that he was fine, but in the span of five seconds I’d convinced myself that taking a much needed shower was a bad idea.

What if he did wake up and Donny didn’t hear him? What if he went looking for me and fell off the bed? What if he cracked his head open when he fell? All because Mommy couldn’t go to bed with stinky pits? Maybe I’ll just wait till tomorrow and ask my Mom to hold him for ten minutes so I can bathe. What’s a few more hours of smelling like ass? Hell, I’ll be asleep for most of them!

Then I realized what I was doing. I’d created this whole scenario in which I’d convinced myself that to take a shower would make me a bad mother. I had managed to talk myself out of doing something for me based on guilt I’d placed on myself! And imaginary guilt at that!

I decided to take a shower. A nice, hot, long shower. And while I bathed I trusted that if Jack did wake up, his Dad would be there for him… if for no other reason than to not hear my damn mouth if he wasn’t.

So my fellow Mommies, the lesson this Mommy Monday is to every now and again, let it go. Trust that our babies are fine with the other people that love them. Trust that the world will not end if we take a moment for ourselves. We have to know that it’s okay to take ten minutes to wash our asses without beating ouselves up about it. The alternative is going to bed smelling like gangbang and nobody wants that.