For most of my life I have had a bad habit of basing my self-worth by the accomplishments, failures, talents and traits of other people. If I met someone prettier than me, I was jealous and called myself a troll. If I met someone smarter than me, I was dumb loser. If I met someone with any amount of talents, I was just a sad, boring shell of a human.

If you are thinking that I’m dramatizing my thoughts or embellishing my feelings then you are dead wrong. Those thoughts are 100% authentic and true, because I’m dramatic. You can probably imagine the antithesis to those feelings  when I was among people who didn’t seem prettier, smarter or more talented than myself. That is an ugly truth and by-product of my insecurities.

So, the entire problem lies with judging myself by other people. The rest of the world’s population are not my own personal barometer for my worthiness! Recently I figured this out because of certain circumstances that I had never experienced before. After that I swore to myself that I would not let anyone else make me feel like I’m not worthy whether it be anything they said to me or by just feeling they are superior. Unfortunately it’s not easy to break a lifetime-long bad habit.

Today, I slipped back into the old ways and felt like an untalented, crappy mother. Now, judging my personal values and self-worth before kids was bad enough; I’m not as skinny as my friend’s girlfriend or I don’t have as nice a car as my co-worker does. Whatever the case was I could find a way to feel inferior. Well, after having kids that issue compounded itself and became 100 times worse. I believe mommy-envy is a major problem for many women. If we see a mother doing something better than us we naturally get jealous… well, not every mother does, some are actually secure in themselves to not let this happen. Becoming a mother made me almost competitive. My friend’s little boy is not even two yet and knows some letters of the alphabet by sight. My boys didn’t know that at his age. Oh my gosh, where did I go wrong!? Can I flip a switch and go back in time and teach my boys their letters sooner? Heh. Riiight.

I blame myself for so many things. I also happen to be fighting the ghost of my father and trying not to be like him, but I slip so often. Sometimes I think that I’m so consumed in fighting off my dad’s bad habits and worrying about being a good mom and keeping a clean house that I forget to just breathe, sit down with the boys and not move. I should read more books, play more games and not worry so much about the little messes. I’m too controlling to let that go though. I’m too wound up all the time. Sitting down and just being with the boys means there are other things I’m not getting down. Plus, I know that being with them won’t be peaceful for long because one of them will want to read one book and the other won’t and then the drama starts… or something else begets a fight… so I don’t bother usually.  Deep down I think that I’m doing the best that I can. But the daily self-reminders of how I’m not a “playful” mother, I’m not a spectacular photographer and don’t have amazing photographs of my kids, I’m not a world-class cook who can whip up kid-friendly creations to eat and I’m certainly not a calm and centered parent are just too much to handle sometimes. Today was one of those times….

Awhile later, as I was going about my day here at home, tidying the house and doing laundry, I heard my boys in the shower screaming at each other. A bit later they were upstairs screaming at each other. Earlier, before the shower, they were fighting over the coloring book and paint brushes. Then, it hit me like a ton of bricks….

I’m raising these two boys, who were at one, long point in time both in diapers and I would love to see someone step into my shoes and do a better job than me. Maybe they could. Maybe they would display more patience, better referee skills and a better execution of discipline. Sure, I don’t doubt that one bit. But, in my heart of hearts I know that I am doing the best job that I possibly can. Parents make mistakes all the time and I am definitely one of them. I’m ok with making mistakes, as long I don’t repeat them…. often.

People have no idea what my boys put me through, day in and day out. They reserve all of their best stuff just for me and their daddy. So, when I’m beating myself up over ruining my kids or being a bad mother I just think about how I have two boys…. two boys who are crazy and outnumber me. The things that I would love to do with my boys are not always possible because of our specific dynamic. Believe me, I have tried. Simple things like spreading out a mat and letting them play with play-dough is a huge production. They fight over the colors, they throw the play dough at each other instead of using it the way it’s meant to be used, they find ways to scatter it all over the place, including my floors, etc, etc.

My boys make me work, hard. I do the best I can (most days) to be the mom they deserve. But, honestly, some days I’m lucky to make it through in one piece. They have a talent for reaching every single last nerve in my body and twisting it in a way that makes me want to climb out of my own skin. Then, there are days when they are really good and I forget about the day before. Regardless of what kind of day it is, I wrap my arms around those boys and never want to let go. I said in an earlier post that I feel like I’m holding the entire world in my arms when I hold them both… they are still little, and cuddly and still need me. Someday they might be taller than me and my hugs won’t mean the same things to them and they might push me away. I just hope that if or when that day comes they remember how much I love them and how hard I tried to be the best mom to them that I could. I hope they know that I poured my heart and soul into them and made many mistakes along the way.

This world is full of talented and beautiful mothers and I am happy to know those specials ones in my life. At first I thought I was inferior to them and while technically maybe I am, it doesn’t mean I’m not good enough. In fact, they make me strive to be a better mom, a better friend. Instead of being jealous of them I need to just try and learn from them and remember that I’m special too.

My self-worth isn’t based on the people I meet or the beautiful moms who surround me. They are all special and wonderful and despite what I might try to believe, they aren’t perfect…. and neither am I. This is something I have to remind myself of daily in order to really change my way of thinking. A good way to remind myself of that is by asking this question…

“When I’m on my deathbed, am I going to regret not having a perfectly clean house or not reading more books to my kids?”

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