Thank You Everyone for Listening, for Caring

I am the first to recognize how precious every moment is with my daughter. With parents in a medical field, friends and acquaintances who have lost beloved children, and the general hectic nature of life, I know that every second is one that will never come back. I try my best not to wish any of those away. I sometimes fail.

Let’s set the scene: I’m at home (you could just as easily insert grocery store, salon, restaurant, library, or any other location here) and my little one has seemingly been provided all the ingredients necessary for a happy, contented day. We’ve eaten all the yummy food, done a project, watched a little TV, and generally completed mommy’s mental checklist for a fulfilling afternoon at home.

What can I say? Now that my little one spends so much time in preschool activities and we get fewer hours together, my fruitful imagination paints a scene where those precious moments are full of snuggles, love, and good memories. In reality, my nearly four-year-old is on the floor with a face as colorful as a pomegranate and limbs flailing as if she is drowning in her own angst.

All I can think as I try not to cry with frustration is:

Isn’t this supposed to be done now? Aren’t we supposedly past that magical finish line for toddler meltdowns?

Doesn’t her birthday this week mean that my newly-minted four-year-old should be able to self-regulate with at least some sign that the emotional explosions are lessening?

 If these suppositions are true, then where in the world did I go wrong?

I can look online, but there is a seemingly unending stream of accusations waiting me at the other end of the search engine. I let her have her beloved binky too long, she still co-sleeps, she breastfed two and a half years instead of one, she doesn’t get enough down time, I don’t play with her enough, she doesn’t get enough stimulation, she isn’t eating a healthy diet, she doesn’t have enough time outdoors, on and on and on…

By the time I’m done just trying to figure out what to do next, I’ve already been assured by a million sources that I’m the worst mom in the world. Or perhaps worse, I’ve been convinced I’m simply a mom who means well but obviously lacks the ability to parent competently. So, of course she is having meltdowns still. Of course she comes home from a day at school and instantly starts spiraling.

In moments of frustrated insecurity, I turn to one of a very few sources (including my family and God) that I feel like isn’t judging me. I cling to the outlet that allows me to speak and to respond and to commune with other mothers without fear of judgment. Do you see where I’m going here?

You, dear editors and readers of Chattanooga Moms, are I turn to. Every month I get the opportunity to reach out and feel like I’m heard, appreciated, and supported.

When I write about something vexing and frustrating — a child screaming and crying whenever she doesn’t get her way, for example — I don’t have to worry that the response will be about what I’ve done wrong. You wonderful readers don’t accuse me of neglect or rampant spoiling. You help me find resources, offer supportive advice, and generally empathize with my situation.

Sometimes all it takes is that burst of support from this community and I feel ready to tackle whatever parental or personal challenge I am currently facing. For example, I really hope you all will have some good advice for toddler meltdowns, as that is my current struggle.

However, I also hope that with each month as I write, I’m able to connect and reach at least one mom out there who needs to feel appreciated and supported. Because, just like I feel you guys are here for me, I promise I am striving to be here for you in whatever way I can.

So, thank you everyone; until next month.

This is my hope

This is my prayer

Thank you God for helping me grow in love.