I know what kind of mother I would like to be; but can I handle it?
As evidenced from my current emotional state, I am not very strong. That’s putting it mildly: I’m a hot mess.
I look at my messy apartment and think about the parents I know whose children don’t know what dirt looks like. Will I poison my kids if I keep cleaning with vinegar instead of the latest antibacterial whatsit? Does being a parent mean I will have to dust the baseboards more often? Am I failing them if I don’t really give a shit about where they leave their shoes?
I look at my finances and think about the families I know who own houses, who can afford piano lessons (ha!) and new clothes and trips to Disney World. I read articles about people who “have kids they can’t afford.” Will I deprive my kids if their clothes come from the thrift store and their vacations are to Grandma’s house?
I look at my history with depression and terrible self-image and I hope to whatever higher power might be out there that I don’t pass it on. If I can’t hold it together all the time, am I dooming my kids to the same problems?
I think I can be a good mother. I know for sure that I won’t make exactly the same mistakes my parents made, but I also know for sure that I will make different ones. There is a deep, illogical place inside of me, though, that is sure beyond a doubt that I can do this.
If only I can have the chance.