We never give them enough (or the guilt of recent mothers)

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My fellow blogger and runner “Mom, do you stay with the children?” I recommend reading. In it he said:

And she goes and begins to question whether she is doing the right thing or abusing someone. She racks her brains asking and weighing if it’s okay for the children. Google gives you more than three million results by typing “leave the children with the grandparents”. If it is fair with the grandparents. If all this is necessary when you simply want to go running a San Silvestre.

And this is when my post begins, because at least in my case it is indeed like that, and in that of some recent and working mothers that I know too, so I get the impression that it must be something quite frequent .

You are a mother and you have young children in that stage in which they are still madly in love with you (there is no one in the world like Mommy, that few years lasts), it is a mutual love of course. You work , with more or less conciliatory schedules but which prevent you from dedicating yourself exclusively to serving your children. You assume obligatory routine tasks that rob you time: go to pay that fine, collect the coats to the dye when leaving work, go to the meeting of the community of neighbors, take your grandmother to the hospital by car, prepare the declaration of the rent … And you also need for your mental health of your own time , to cultivate a hobby or to practice some sport, to go out for coffee with another adult, to go sometime to dinner and to the movies with your husband.

What ends up happening? Well, as work, pay fines and take the grandmother to the hospital are unappealable obligations, you end up dispensing with many of those own times or carrying them out but with that feeling of guilt of stealing time from your children, from being an egoist who reward your satisfaction above theirs.

It does not matter if you stop to analyze it you see that you are with them every afternoon, that the day you do not bathe with them in matronatation you were playing the playmobil, that every weekend you focus on them and look for joint plans, visits to the zoo, children’s theater, storytelling …

It’s compensation, I know. The levels of compensation reach new levels “if mom had to be on a business trip”.

I have the impression that most of the working mothers (probably also many of those who work at home taking care of them) always have that thorn, that feeling that we never give them enough of us.

But we also need those moments for us.

And the feeling of guilt for the grandparents that we abuse and we talk about another day if you think so.

Reconcile, what a beautiful word.