Why is it that the moment I found out I was going to be a parent everything I did was served with a large side order of steaming hot guilt?

I felt guilty because I didn’t eat five pounds of spinach every day.

I felt guilty because I didn’t read Voltaire to my kids in-utero.

I felt guilty because I ate butter right out of the container. For breakfast. Most mornings. Every morning.

I felt guilty because I had to have a c-section instead of a regular ole birth.

Now the guilt is an every day part of my life.

I have two girls – 20 months and 4 months. I feel guilty when I play with the little one because I feel like I should be spending time with the big one. I feel guilty when I play with the big one because I should be spending time with the little one.

I feel guilty because I don’t feed the big one a perfectly balanced diet.

I feel guilty because I stopped breastfeeding the little one.

I feel guilty because I think they don’t have enough toys.

I feel guilty when I buy them toys because I think they’ll get spoiled.

I feel guilty about spending the whole day inside when it’s cold.

I feel guilty about taking them outside in the cold.

I read an article last week that said this guilt is common in women who have waited until later in life to have children because they’ve had more time to build up a romanticized idea of parenthood in their head and have an unrealistic expectation of perfection. They said it can lead to negative relationships with your kids and even your spouse.
Oh great. Now I feel guilty about feeling guilty.

This guilt was starting to eat me alive so last night I gave some thought as to what life must look like from their perspective. I realized how much my girls are truly suffering and what a horrible job I’m doing at making sure their basic needs are met.

Morning (ish) – Wake up when they feel like it, scream until I prepare breakfast

8:00 – Big one demands pancakes

8:05 – Big one refuses the pancakes, demands I serve sausage.

8:10 – Throws sausage on floor and spits on it. Grabs cereal bowl out of my hand and eats my breakfast.

8:20 – Little one screams until bottle is heated to a precise 74.2 degrees. Once heated to perfection refuses bottle; demands boob. I pray something comes out of boob.

10:00 – Big one ignores my offer for story time with one of the many books I spent hours researching to find the perfect balance of education and fun. Also refuses block time. And tea party time. Pushes me aside and runs away.

10:01 – Pick up little one to feed her

10:02 – Big one throws self on floor and throws grand mal seizure sized tantrum due to lack of attention. Screams and shoves a book in my face until I can wedge the bottle under my chin to free hand to turn pages.

10:20 – Put little one down to play with big one

10:21 – Big one ignores my offer for finger puppet time acting out the play I was up until 3am writing. Also refuses puzzle time. Pushes me aside and runs away. Steps on finger puppet.

2:00 – Try to put big one on my lap to play horsey. She kicks and screams until I put her down, then runs away.

2:01 – Sneak into bathroom for a moment of privacy

2:02 – Big one barges in bathroom and screams until I pull her up on my lap. While I’m sitting on the toilet.

3:45 – Change big one’s diaper

3:46 – Big one poops in new diaper. Laughs diabolically and runs away.

4:00 – Run out of whole milk

4:05 – Dodge laser beams shooting from big one’s eyes as I attempt to serve 2%

4:10 – Go to grocery store in driving snow

4:12 – Leave grocery store in shame as big one screams her head off because there were no car carts left and little one explodes toxic waste in her diaper

6:30 – Offer basket of 12,304 bath toys one by one to the big one until she selects one that satisfies her mood 6:45 – Help big one brush her teeth

6:46 – Put big one back in tub because she peed all over herself and bathroom floor in front of sink

6:50 – Bathe little one

7:00 – Dry little one

7:01 – Put little one back in tub because she pooped all over herself and bouncy seat when being dried

9:00 – Go to bed feeling guilty

My only solace is the fact that I’ll be returning many of these favors when I’m 80 and rotating residences between my childrens’ guest rooms.

I’m particularly excited about the peeing on the floor part…