As if I didn't feel guilty enough already....

amother

Wed, Jul 27 2011, 3:25 pm

I got this from Chabad.org (which I subscribe to)

http://www.chabad.org/theJewis.....s.htm
More Than Words

[quote/]
By Debby Phillips

If you would have asked me up to about a month ago what one of my children was like at around kindergarten age, I would have answered that he was difficult. Memories are always a bit foggy and specific details eluded me, but the tension I felt was real and I believed it to have been, no doubt, about him. Years have passed, happy experiences have been shared, the tension long gone and replaced by a good connection. I never gave those difficult years a thought, let alone reflection. They were written off to his being a “tough kid” before growing up; they became an uncomfortable joke.

Memories are always a bit foggy and specific details eluded me, but the tension I felt was realUntil one Shabbat afternoon.

I was looking at some old photo albums with some of my other children. We laughed at outdated hairdos and eyeglasses, grew misty-eyed at the sight of relatives and friends no longer with us. And then, a page came into view that offered me a most painful glimpse into what I never knew had been a very painful reality.

It was a series of three photos of my son’s preschool graduation, him looking hopeful and somewhat proud in his makeshift cap and tassel. Hopeful, because he was sitting very close to me in the first shot, obviously hungry and leaning in toward me anxious for some contact, some deserved attention as the star of the day. He didn’t get it. I was leaning away from him, one arm around my mother on my other side, the other tightly around a sibling on my lap. The second picture in the series found him still with an anxious look but with shoulders a bit slumped, a trace of dejection evident in his beautiful eyes. He was still leaning in, with me still leaning away. By the third shot his arms are crossed, his body upright. The “tough kid” look—or was it just sad? I was still in the same pose, clueless to his disappointment. And that’s when it hit me. I had been clueless all along.

Flashes of other, similar frames came to mind. Not keeping him on my lap as long as he wanted to be there. A crisp, “Okay! Time to get moving!” followed by placing him down, his head still buried in my chest. Not smiling enough. Not playing enough. Being gruff, assuming the worst when it was unfounded. Noticing his wounded look, but willing myself not to see it. Those tough years weren’t the product of a difficult child. They were the product of my leaning away.

Those tough years weren’t the product of a difficult child. They were the product of my leaning awayI cried over those pictures and was haunted by them through Shabbat and beyond. My son called, as always, after Shabbat, anxious to connect and express his love. I was ashamed to hear the goodness in his voice. It was just further proof of his innocence, his sweetness . . . and my guilt. A conversation was needed, I knew, but it would have to take place in person. Each phone call felt forced. I so much wanted to tell him about my epiphany, to hold him. To lean in.

Over his next stretch at home, I had the chance. We were taking a walk, his smile and great company as deliciously wonderful as always (well, not always), and I took his hand. It was an emotional apology. The pictures, the reality check, my deepest and most heartfelt request for forgiveness. He squeezed my hand and looked into my eyes. “Of course I forgive you, Mommy. It wasn’t your fault. I was probably not so easy.” He hugged me, tighter than ever. I disagreed. I shook. And I leaned in.

A picture, it seems, offers more than a thousand words. It offers second chances.
[/quote]

Sigh. DS sounds just like hers (he's 4 but sounds about right...) I know it's not his fault he's difficult. I just never thought it might be mine...

tikva18

Wed, Jul 27 2011, 6:26 pm

Please don't let her make you feel guilty. Please don't. You probably bear enough guilt without someone else's experience adding to it. Your child isn't hers.

You do the best you can; some days you can do more, others, perhaps, less. And that's okay. It's hard. I know. I have an extraordinarily difficult child. Believe me, I know. You do the best that you can at that time. If you learn something that you think will be helpful in the future, then apply it if you are able, but please, please don't feel guilty for someone else's experience.

freidasima

Wed, Jul 27 2011, 6:47 pm

Narishkeit.
We are Jewish mothers which means as my husband the zaddik says, that we are automatic guilt magnets.

Chill. You are doing the best you can. What should you do exactly, ignore your mother and your sibling and give your love ONLY to your son? He is not on an island with you. You have other responsibilities and some children can be a black hole of need - not necessarily your son - and as a result no matter what they will always want more attention, more hugs, more mommy time ....now that's wonderful IF you have no other human responsibilities..including to yourself.

So just chill. Your son loves you, you love him. Maybe reading the article is a wake up call to you which in itself was worth the reading. But to feel guilty?

Feel guilty about the weather, the national debt and all the things I and many other women feel guilty about. Be that lady that when someone steps on her foot SHE apologizes (that's me BTW, the apologizer, not the stepper).

but chill. Do your best. That's all you can do. Don't take on someone elses guilt, Believe me, you will have more than enough of your own even if you are a perfect mother.

Barbara

Wed, Jul 27 2011, 7:05 pm

Dear Debby Phillips:

I remember that day, too. You were holding little Miri so she wouldn't run all over and spoil Yossi's big day. And your mom. Don't you remember that was just after she was diagnosed with breast cancer? You were both so scared. BH, she recovered fully. As to Yossi's dejection, well, that was because you told him that he couldn't eat the WHOLE cake you made by himself. You know Yossi!

Signed, your hidden memories

OP, do your best. That's all you can do. There are days everyone gets frustrated. Days everyone does something wrong. But that doesn't mean you're not a good mom. it means you're human.

groisamomma

Wed, Jul 27 2011, 7:08 pm

The above post is why I love friedasima. Right on the money!

groisamomma

Wed, Jul 27 2011, 7:10 pm

Barbara wrote:

Cute, but true. OP stop stressing and riding the guilt train. Writers need to paint eloquent, unrealistic pictures of the ideal or else they'd lose their audience.

amother

Wed, Jul 27 2011, 8:37 pm

OP here...

Thanks guys.

I know what you mean about the guilt. It can be paralyzing. But it makes me wonder if we're both stuck in an endless cycle. He misbehaves, I get frustrated, he feels unloved and therefore misbehaves.

Yes, he sometimes has this bottomless need for affection. But maybe if he craves it, he actually needs it? I do notice that the needier he is, the more frustrated I get the more I pull away from my sweet boy, which is probably something he notices and clearly resents......

He's not always tough. He's such a sweet kid, smart, delicious, funny 4 year old... But he can get really out of hand with his neediness and outbursts...

I just don't want to be the reason for him being so tough...

tikva18

Wed, Jul 27 2011, 10:17 pm

Perhaps feed the good behavior and don't give attention to the bad. He will want your attention - so the more you feed the good the more he'll do the good - at least that's the theory. Smile

FranticFrummie

Fri, Jul 29 2011, 8:13 pm

OP, you are not alone. I consider it a true miracle from Hashem that I survived Dd's "Fearsome Four's". She was not a bad kid, but she was constantly on the move, exuberant, talkative, and clingy. We were trapped in a horrible studio apartment in a bad neighborhood, and on top of each other all day long. There was no money for preschool, and she desperately needed constant interaction. I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrom and crippling migraines - and she was too young to understand what constant pain was.

I was not the best mother.

Later, I apologized for the times I yelled or gave her a potch, and she forgave me. It's never too late to admit your mistakes and make things right. Kids need to know that you love them no matter what, at any age.

My mom and I couldn't forgive each other until I was in my late 30's, and let me tell you, it's made a world of difference to both of us. She's my best friend again. It is never, EVER too late! Just open your heart, and let the love come out. It will be OK.