I’d really like a report card.
I’d love a quarterly review.
I’d do almost anything for a tiny bit of FEEDBACK.
I just want someone with a little authority to tell me if I am, or if I am not, doing a good job as a mom. And my husband doesn’t count.
As soon as the kids are in bed, I look for solid evidence – anything I can use to prove my excellence as a mother. Is the house clean? Are books and educational games not only slightly worn from over use, are they piled neatly in a corner after a long day of play? And does the kitchen say “home of creative nutritional cooking” and “smart snacks only?”
I hardly ever find this so called “evidence of excellent mothering.” I see toys where they don’t belong, piles of unwashed clothes that need attention and as usual, I see my nemesis, the front glass door. It doesn’t matter how many times I Windex the door there are still fingerprints and smudges on it at days end.
So…..most times…when I find myself frantically searching for some redeeming remnant of the day, all I can come up with is – Hey, at least no one actually drank the Windex today.
Failing to find real feedback inside the house, I look forward to doctor well-visits and school conferences. Certainly pediatricians and teachers have enough authority to tell me that “thanks to excellent parenting skills, my kids are healthy and smart.” And hearing it from them makes it official, right? Maybe, but based on our last doctor visit, I’m guessing our insurance doesn’t cover praise.
Recently, I took my daughter to her 4 year well visit. She had had her school conference a week earlier and I was still on a high from a few accolades she received, so naturally, I hoped more would be coming. But all said and done, I was totally underwhelmed, and felt like I’d had Mickey D drive thru exchanges with more give-and-take.
Accolades, zero. Pats on the back, zero.
My daughter, elated to pick TWO princess stickers out of the sticker box, was happy to be done with it, but I just sat there, wondering what happened. Hey, where was MY sticker? Then I got to thinking…
Allow me to introduce the “Sticker Chart for Moms.” A few examples of goals:
• Looking poised and in control when your child throws a Brittany fit on the floor at Target.
• Coming up with a reasonable answer when your child says “Look at that Man mommy!” while pointing to the woman next to you.
• Brushing your teeth in daylight, not just before bed.
• Sitting down and really playing with your kids and not thinking about the 101 other things that you HAVE to get done today.
• Reaching for the fruit and not the chips when they ask for a snack.
• Getting out a book instead of changing the channel to NOGGIN when they’re bored.
Add your own, but the idea is this: designate X number of gold stickers per accomplishment, then redeem however you see fit. For example, 5 stickers buys you a trip to the bathroom, ALONE. Twenty lets you go to bed guilt-free after saying NO to sex. Fifty, and your husband (or mother or housemate or whoever) has to tour the house noting all you do, complimenting every step of the way. 75 stickers and you get to enjoy dinner without 1) anyone eating off of your plate and 2) you feeding anyone else. The mother load, 100 stickers, (no pun intended), and you receive… drum roll please… a bona fide report card. One precious and official piece of paper detailing all you have done right – and wrong – this month in parenting. Signed, sealed and delivered by your pediatrician, your child’s teacher, or whomever you deem worthy of the label, “Parenting Authority.”
Finding confidence as a Mom is a hard task when there’s no praise, tangible reward or ongoing advice. You have to trust your gut. You don’t get feedback and you don’t have a boss to report to and/or guide you. For some reason, it’s been pre-determined that parents must walk blindly, and lead the future of this planet on gut instinct alone.
The next time I begin to question and doubt my ability as a mother, the next time I find myself daydreaming of sticker charts and report cards, I think I’ll just pour myself a nice glass of wine instead. Tomorrow is always a new day. And If I am still not 100% confident by then, I plan to fake it. At least the kids won’t know.