I was raised Catholic. So, guilt is as much a part of my life as breathing or menstruation. I’m okay with it for the most part. I firmly believe that guilt is a wasted emotion and I try to push it aside when it rears its ugly guilty head.
Next to Catholic guilt, Parenting guilt is the heaviest form of guilt. I missed a soccer game. I fed my kids cereal for dinner. Whoops, I forgot to get them from school… guilt, guilt, guilt.
My boys are in a play this weekend. 3 shows. Last night Seven and I went together. Today Seven stayed home while I ran around getting flowers and directors gifts and food for the cast party. I attended the matinee, held the cast party and fed 65 children. I delegated the presentation of the gifts to another mom.
Now I’m home. On the couch. I’m showered, my face is scrubbed, my hair is in a bun and I’m lounging in pajamas. It’s 7:07 pm on Saturday night. I’m exausted. The boys’ last performance is starting now. (Note: they have no starring roles in tonights performance..they are part of the chorus). Seven is there. I am here.
I feel guilty. And that annoys the shit out of me. Nowhere in the parenting manual does it say that you have to sit through 6 hours of children’s theatre in a 24-hour period. But I feel bad for not doing it. I almost just got in my car and went. But I’m not going to do it. My head knows that my children could care less if I’m there at this moment. But my stupid guilty heart feels otherwise.
I will not bend to the guilt. I won’t.
I’m pouring a glass of wine. I’m turning off the computer. I’m getting a pillow and a blanket and I’m going to watch Horrible Bosses. Alone.
don’t judge me.
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