As I mentioned in the introduction to my last guest post, Tuesday was a bad day. In fact, I even had a rough outline in my head for the post that I wanted to write about it. I also had a title: Working Mom Hell. But one day later – and one day not all that much better – I haven’t the energy or interest to write about how much Tuesday sucked. I already lived through it and I don’t particularly want to revisit it. My account would end up being all wacky and ironic and highlight the quirky traits of my children and paint me as the hilarious straight man… But that’s not how it felt. It felt bad. And not funny. And now I just want to forget it and move on.
And the way I get past the bad is to focus on the good. I am proud of this coping mechanism. It’s one that I worked hard to cultivate, having been prone to martyrish ways in my youth. But my usual “go to,” my kids, wouldn’t work this time. I was still feeling the shame of my bad mommy day, and thoughts of my angels would just lead me back to the same feelings of guilt that I was trying to put to rest.
Instead, I read my Aunt’s story about lying in bed at night and talking to her big sister. And I found myself remembering a time in my life when I was really happy. Carefree and full of hope and unapologetic for flaws that I didn’t yet recognize as faults. I was a senior in high school and for the first time ever, I felt comfortable in my own skin. And I had a great job: I was a big sister to girls. I wasn’t a biological big sister and I wasn’t a volunteer Big Sister – I was just a babysitter.
When I first met Margaret and Julia, I knew that they wouldn’t be like the toddlers and younger kids that I usually took care of. Margaret was ten and didn’t actually require supervision in those hours between the end of school and her mother’s return from work. But Julia was only seven, and Margaret wasn’t quite old enough for the responsibility of monitoring her little sister. I was hired to keep an eye on them, to make sure they did their homework and to put together something resembling dinner (usually fish sticks – not much has changed).
As I said, I had never taken care of kids their age before, and I was immediately struck by two things. First that it was EASY! I didn’t have to chase them around or carry them, and when I asked them to do something, they just did it without any boundary testing or power struggles. The second realization was that I was never bored. Not for a minute. Even when we were sitting around doing nothing, it was like spending time with friends. They liked to hear about my personal dramas and the scandalous gossip of my social circles. And I liked to hear about their younger version of the same.
Kate: “Did I tell you that I found my dress for prom?”
Margaret: “I want to see pictures. I just got a new mini skirt for the birthday party on Saturday.”
Kate: “Are you still going? I thought that you were in a fight with her.”
Margaret: “We made up. Did all of your friends get asked to prom?”
Kate: “Since I only have girls at my school, we don’t have to worry about getting asked to prom. We do the asking.”
Julia: “Look at the picture I drew of you in your prom dress. I gave you a crown and wings.”
Never a dull moment. At least as far as we were concerned. I loved my girls and probably spent half of my earnings on candy at the drug store that was a few blocks away (remember when we went to the “drug store” and not CVS, Rite Aide, etc.?) We would usually walk over and buy chocolate bars and sodas. Diet Coke for me and Coke Classic for them. Or maybe Mountain Dew or Dr. Pepper. They were still experimental about their treats.
I also took each of them out on dates a couple of times. Margaret and I went to see Joe Versus the Volcano and ate huge boxes of movie theater candy before the previews were over. Then Julia and I went to Swensons for ice cream sundaes. Now that I think of it – I was a very bad influence on them with the junk food (again – not much has changed).
Julia was still very much a little girl and would crack me up with her odd little ways and sayings. She loved to have her arms tickled while we watched TV and would say that it made her “all hotted up.” I asked her not to say that anymore – it just didn’t sound right. We were all too young to worry very much about embarrassing each other. Everything was taken in the way it was intended. Intentions were always good.
Margaret came home one day with this t-shirt she had decorated. She used glittery fabric paint to spell out “Never Underestimate the Power of a Girl.” Underneath were two stick figures, one pink and one blue to represent a girl and a boy. And between them was an “equals” sign (girl figure = boy figure). Julia and I agreed that the equals sign looked more like lasers that the stick figures were shooting at each other. Margaret couldn’t decide if she liked that idea better than her original vision.
I have a picture of the three of us. I’m sitting down with Margaret and Julia on either side of me. Margaret is wearing the t-shirt. I love that picture and I always look at that t-shirt: Never Underestimate the Power of a Girl. It reminds me of the girl that I once was – both at their age and at seventeen. I remember so much of my childhood, and how I felt. Maybe that’s why I enjoyed spending time with my young charges so much. I knew how they felt – I had been there.
Margaret and Julia kept me connected to the little girl that was still inside of me. I was leaving for college the next year, but I wasn’t really ready. I would rather have spent another year braiding Julia’s hair and telling Margaret about the parties I went to that weekend. Growing up was never easy for me. And it still isn’t. Being a good big sister is a lot more fun than being a bad mommy.
And I’m sure that when my kids are in college, I’ll look back and remember this whirlwind of IEP meetings, potty training and trying to balance work and family as a far “simpler time” than it seems to be right now. This is a pattern for me – looking back. But just as I learned to be more positive and not dwell on my shortcomings, I’ve also learned to look forward more. And to have a little faith in my ability to do well by myself and the people I love. My intentions are always good. And I never underestimate myself anymore.
Sounds like “Little Women” to me… Nice that you have such fond memories of Margaret and Julia – I’m sure they share the feelings.
I’m sorry you had a difficult Tuesday. I SO understand Mom guilt. We all have it and we all have days we’re glad we don’t have an audience. You’re a wonderful mother.
I think a mommy without proper mommy guilt isn’t a very good mommy. We always feel like we should be doing better and in the end since we really only do the best we can… well, we’re the best we can be I suppose.
Sorry you had a bad Tuesday. I’m about to have a bad Thursday as I head out for my IEP meeting.
Kate,
NO MOMMY GUILT!!! Your “Bad Mommy” comments about yourself remind me of my own that I was carrying heavy in my heart all these years later and you sat me down and said, “you were a great Mom. Stop with the guilt.” Take that to heart. You are the world’s best.
I loved the Margaret and Julia memories. They would probably love them too!
LOve, Mom
How sweet! I still stay in touch with two girls that have grown into women now, that I once nannied for! It’s amazing to see them 15 years later!
Hey! I won! (I’m a little slow). Thanks soooo much. I am super excited and my sis is jealous.
I wanted to grow up fast..and get out on my own…Now I look back and wish I would have enjoyed being young instead of always wanting to be grown..
What an awesome babysitter you were…that is why you are such a great mom…remember that..even when you are having those guilty mom feelings! :)
It’s amazing how terrible we can make ourselves feel about our parenting sometimes.
I loved babysitting when I was younger. Sometimes I wish I could be my kids babysitter instead of their mother. They have so much more fun with their babysitter. :-)
I love this story. I babysat two girls for years. I started when the oldest was 3 months and kept at it until she was 7. I felt like I raised her and her little sister (once she came along). I had some great times with those girls. Thanks for the walk down memory lane.
That was a nice story. Thanks for sharing.
Oh, and today’s word verfication? OPTIMIST.
I think we can all relate to the “bad mommy” feelings. I get them all the time. But it makes me feel I can do/be better so I don’t dwell on it too much.
That was a wonderful story about your “little sisters”.
Beautiful blog! I loved reading about you and the girls you babysat. What a treat it must have been for them to spend that time w/ someone older and wiser, but still able to be a kid.
Speaking of kids, I am so SORRY Tuesday was rotten. I wish you could have a do-over, but I know the kids will be fine. My word verification is “coment.”
Joe Versus the Volcano was a great movie.
sounds like you have it all figured out-
be positive, have good intentions…
It takes some people their whole lives to figure that out-
congrats mom :)
As a teacher, I have attended many IEP meetings. It can be overwhelming for parents, but it really is a good thing to spot problems early. You are not a bad mommy. Keep your chin up Kate.
I feel like a bad mommy every day. Then my kids say things that they like about their home life off the cuff and I go, oh, so maybe I’m not doing so bad. Guilt is constructive in the sense that it makes us want to be better.
Never Underestimate the Power of a Girl. I like that.
Excellent writing! What a great essay for your future memoirs!
I love the tee shirt what a great message for young girls
Great story! I always loved babysititng….and we had a little drugstore down the street with a soda fountain in the back. I will always remember that place.
How wonderful. This is the second reminiscent babysitting post I’ve read this week and they both made me feel the same way: nostalgic and determined to hold onto those memories. I posted about it today (Friday) on my personal blog Not So SAHM.
Thanks for submitting your post again!
I was such a little girl for so long that is why I married my ex. I met him when I was 25 going on 5. As soon as I “grew up” is when I left him. I think you’re fantastic. :)
You are not alone, and I bet you a million bucks (and who couldn’t use a million bucks nowadays) that your bad mom days are worse in your own mind than in your kid’s.
Hang in there!
What wonderful memories to have of your sisters.
Yes, we as moms do our best with what life has handed us, and everything turns out okay in the end.
I used to not be good friends with my mom, until we HAD to be college roommates. :-)
I have just got to say… I have also never passed up a piece of cake! In fact, I was out with friends the other night on a night out, and I saw a piece of cake somebody else was having, and up popped my hand into the air and I bobbed it up ‘n’ down, sayin’ “O I want one! I want one!” I’m totally two years old or something!
p.s. Once it got to the table, I didn’t want it anymore! I was too full on the champagne! LOL!