Photo by Editor B
The following is a guest post written by (my dear friend) Caroline Starr Rose of Caroline by line.
My husband brought in the mail and held out a small envelope -- a gift certificate for my soon-to-be birthday boy. Just a few days before I’d gotten a phone call from the friend who’d sent it, telling me her children wouldn’t be able to attend his party.
My first response wasn’t how thoughtful she had been to send a gift along anyway. It was the realization I’d never even think to do anything half as kind. Her small gesture became a measuring rod of motherly devotion, one that exposed how far below her I ranked on the adequacy scale.
What is it about motherhood that brings out the worst in us?
For all the beauty that flows from it, why do we so deeply feel the need to compare our mothering with others? And how is it that when the topic turns to working mothers, stay-at-home moms, or those who do a bit of both, how is it so easy to ooze ugliness about decisions different from our own?
I’ve been a mom now for a decade, and during those years I’ve stayed at home, taught full time, and written children’s books from a home office. In other words, I’ve fiddled with the work/home ratio in a variety of ways.
Here are some not-so-flattering things I’ve learned about myself (and other moms) along the way:
