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An Epic Mom Fail and Moving Past the Mom Guilt

By Erin Stolle, Publisher/Editor - Macaroni Kid Alpharetta-Roswell-Milton May 30, 2018

I was seriously winning that Monday morning. The sun was shining, the kids were off to school, and I had plans to get my week organized and reach new levels of productivity. I was energized, to say the least. I took an early class at the gym and then headed to Costco to restock on all the things we had been out of for entirely too long. That's right, no more putting things off.

With the newfound sun and warmer temperatures after what seemed like a never-ending winter, people were friendly and we were all smiling at our productive selves as we expertly navigated the aisles. I ran into a former preschool teacher of one of my kiddos and we spent a few minutes catching up on our lives during the past couple of years. The lines weren't long, the day was young, and the possibilities of what could be accomplished were exhilarating.

I hurried home to put away the frozen items I had just purchased, skittered around the house conquering the clutter and miscellaneous socks and pencils and books strewn about from my kids' rooms to my kitchen. I settled in to tackle the to-do list, one of which caused me to rifle through the stack of papers I had shoved into a drawer the morning the house cleaners came the previous week.

And then I saw it.

It was my 5th grader's hand-written invitation to his student-led conference at school. An invitation for which I positively RSVPed and put on our family online calendar -  a calendar that I often refer to when needing to check what field or baseball park we needed to report to on any particular afternoon. Afternoon. Not morning.

I literally froze as it all came rushing back to me. The conference where he and I would sit outside on this beautiful day, enjoying an early lunch, while he walked me through his work and goals throughout his 5th-grade year. His early lunch. Gulp. I looked at the clock and my heart sunk when the time read 11:21 AM. His lunchtime had just ended. And I missed it.

Tears quickly filled my eyes as I imagined my sweet, sensitive kiddo sitting there in his classroom waiting for his mom to show up. Watching parent after parent happily greet their children. It was more than I could bear to think about how I let my son down.

I immediately jumped on the computer and emailed his teacher, apologizing for forgetting about the appointment and asking if my son was okay. Trying to see if I could come in at another time and recreate what should have been. I called my husband in tears, only to hear his tears of empathy as he understood how it feels to not be able to be present for your children's activities. I texted another friend declaring my feeling of being the worst mom on the planet, thankfully to hear her voice on the phone shortly thereafter reassuring me that I wasn't. I called my mom to have her reassure me that she messed up, too, and I've obviously forgotten about it, so my son will too.

But, it wouldn't help. Not until I could wrap my arms around my son and tell him how sorry I was and make sure he was okay. The next three hours of waiting to hear the bus pull up to our stop were excruciating. So, I did what any mother would do. I went to Target.

I racked my brain on what I could use to "bribe" my child into forgiving me. My 11-year-old son isn't into many toys these days, and goodness knows we have enough NERF guns to arm our entire neighborhood, so I went looking for chocolate. Specifically, Hershey bars, as they are his favorite. I came home with three King-sized bars, three books, and a card declaring that I messed up, but wanted him to know how much I loved him and was so, so sorry.

I had it all arranged at his spot at our table where he does his homework and tried to busy myself until he came home. When he did, I threw my arms around him and told him I was so sorry that I missed his conference and admitted that I plain 'ol forgot. Luckily, he's my forgiving child and told me it was okay and that he actually had fun going over his work with his teacher, and the other kids who were there without parents. Inside, I told myself that those other parents probably forgot, too, but realized they probably just had other obligations and had never RSVPed "yes" in the first place.

When he walked into the house, I proudly pointed out his loot on the table and I could tell he was excited. His favorite chocolate, and books by his favorite author, Rick Riordan, were like gold to him, and I could tell he appreciated the card.

It was now my turn to let go of my feelings of mom guilt, accept his forgiveness, and move on. Move on to answer my 7-year-old about what I got for him. "You got a mother that didn't forget your conference," I said. There. That felt better.

But, two weeks later, I still am able to conjure up the feelings of that day. The lump in my throat returns, and I have to remind myself that I, too, am human, and it's good for my children to see me make mistakes. But, it doesn't make it any easier to let go of the mom guilt.

Though I suppose with the passing of time and constant nagging and reminding and pleading for my children to remember to do their homework, clean up their rooms, stop picking on each other, not to lie to me, etc., the feeling becomes less intense.

Until the moment when my youngest looked into his almost empty shorts drawer and said, with disgust in his voice, "Don't you ever do laundry?" To which I responded by dropping a basket full of clean clothes in front of his face and telling him that he is more than welcome to fold and put the clothes away.

And then I walk off, feeling equally guilty and pleased with myself, all at the same time.