Raising children brings so much joy, fulfillment, and meaning to life. It also brings guilt by the boatload. It is impossible to raise another human being without routinely screwing up in monumental ways—and that’s when you’re trying.
Spiritually mindful parents will recognize that wallowing under a load of crushing guilt is actually a subtle form of pride: by dwelling on our failures, we are making too much of ourselves, and too little of the redemptive power of grace, which can be accessed through daily acts of hope and trust in God and in Mary as the true mother of our children.
So that’s for the holy types. For the rest of us, here is a handy cheat sheet.
Note: Proposed solutions are in no way intended to make the situation better. The truth is, you have already ruined your children beyond repair before you even unbuckle them from their car seats on the ride home from the delivery room (assuming, you negligent swine, that you managed to buy one of those $450 Minimally Responsible Parent carseats in the first place).
No, these fixes are intended only to make you feel a little bit better so you can get through the day, sleep poorly through nightlong nightmares of DCYF, and wake up with the strength to crap it up all over again the next day.
MATERNAL GUILT: COMMON CAUSES, QUICK SOLUTIONSTHE OFFENCE:
Show up at the pediatrician’s office with a kid whose bone was broken . . . yesterday. (Bonus guilt points if the receptionist asks for the kid’s date of birth, and you’re off by five years or more.)
THE SOLUTION:
Telling everyoneeveryoneeveryone about how horrible you feel about it, and how much you can’t believe what a bad mother you are. If you stop enough people, Ancient Mariner-style, eventually you will come across someone who says, “Oh my gosh, I did the same thing, and my pediatrician says that it’s REALLY, REALLY COMMON.” Find that pediatrician; send her roses.
THE OFFENCE:
Realizing that, while your older kids could pretty much work for Catholic Answers as top level apologists, the younger ones are not quite up to speed, catechetically speaking. They are, for instance, under the impression that there are three Gods, one of whom is named “Jeremy.”
THE SOLUTION:
Design a two-birds-with-one stone remedial curriculum in which—genius!—the older kids teach the younger kids their catechism, thereby educating the younger ones while giving the older ones the invaluable reinforcement of having to put their knowledge into words. If you are feeling especially ambitious, you might even make them do it, rather than just making a chart about it.
Console yourself with the idea that the faith of converts is often so much more vibrant than that of cradle Catholics. Pray that your children will someday convert to Catholicism.
THE OFFENCE:
You drive to school in an exhausted stupor, coming fully awake only as you kiss your kindergartner goodbye. It is only then that you realize that she is wearing men’s cowboy boots, her eyelashes are visibly dusty, someone has drawn cat whiskers on her cheeks, and she has no pants on.
THE SOLUTION:
Traumatize all of your children for the rest of the week by scrubbing their faces raw and making them wear perfectly-matched ensembles of designer clothing, which you purchased with the money you had set aside for vitamins, Christmas presents, and food. Because you’re a good mother!
THE OFFENCE:
It’s the feast of St. Francis and the kids are all giggling their way through Mass. You realize that they have been singing “Make Me a Panel of Your Cheese,” which they learned from you.
THE SOLUTION:
Gasp and whisper furiously, “WHERE did you learn that?” Then sit on them before they can answer. When you get home, make kitten-shaped pancakes to make up for sitting on them.
THE OFFENCE:
At dinner you serve, among other things, a salad. Your children freak out because they are not used to associating the color “green” with the concept “edible.”
THE SOLUTION:
Adopt the family motto “Real Men Get Rickets.”
THE OFFENCE:
You accidentally let slip a comment which implies that not every moment of childrearing is a profound and ecstatic dance of bliss, a sentiment which will undoubtably set the pro-life movement back forty years and do irreparable harm to your children’s souls, causing the boys to become pimps and the girls to become bitter, tank top-wearing Riot Grrrls who listen to Terry Gross and tattoo “I [heart] the culture of death” on their lower backs.
THE SOLUTION:
Remind yourself that, in order for your words to do any harm, your kids would actually have to be listening to you. Whew!
THE OFFENCE:
You forget to lock the door (or you forgot, for eleven years, to get around to replacing the broken lock) and the kids walk in on you and your husband as you renew your marriage covenant.
THE SOLUTION:
Shout “theology of the body!” Slam the door. Never speak of it again.
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Hold on….these are *offenses*? Boy am I in trouble!
Simcha, you have officially ruined the Saint Francis Prayer for me! Thanks A LOT!
What a great way to encourage interest in Theology of the Body!
Sending to all my nerdy English major friends for referencing the Rime of the Ancient Mariner.
What’s “Make Me a Panel of Your Cheese”?
This is terrible!! And great. Except the last one. Being single, I try to avoid as much as possible the “when I get married/have kids, I won’t do X” avowals, because conventional wisdom about how tired/unprepared/clueless first-time parents are seems to hold true. I can’t make any promise I won’t be just like everyone else, and it would probably be a shame if I WEREN’T: I would be ostracized from the parenting community and kicked out of mothers’ groups, no doubt. HOWEVER, I would like to say here that I will NOT commit the last “offence” on your list: I NEVER, EVER want this to happen!!! Doors will be locked!! That being impossible, heavy pieces of furniture will be moved in front of or large amounts of duct tape will be used on the door to prevent entry! Touching up the paint later on will be worth it . . . :-/
DEAD ON, Simcha! Thanks for the laughs…love that I’m not alone in feeling this way.
Sylvia ... it WILL happen. Even if it doesn’t, by the time your kids are old enough to know what goes on behind closed, locked, doors between married people, they will try the locked door while you are doing it and then announce loudly to their siblings, “Ewwwwwwww. The door is LOCKED.”
TO: Quid est Veritas:
Make me a channel of your peace. Common hymn refrain translated from a prayer by St. Francis.
Oh yes, #1! When my oldest (who is now 24) was three she fell out of bed. A whole two feet down onto a nice cushy carpet. It took me 36 hours to figure out that she had broken her collar bone. That is putting my BS in Nursing fully to work!!
Simcha,
Long time reader, first time commenter. Thanks so much for the laugh today. I was stressing out this morning about much more pedestrian causes of maternal guilt (shouting at the 2 year old for intentionally spilling the 3.5 year old’s juice, not responding to fighting noises between aforementioned kids fast enough, letting the 5 week old blow out *another* diaper, believing the 2 year old when he says he didn’t poop, even though his brother insists that he stinks). Yours are way more fun. And I have to start teaching everyone “panel of your cheese.”
I just laughed so loud, I think I woke up the baby. And my side hurts. How do you even think of this stuff?? And thanks to you, I will always hear “Make me a panel of your cheese” when they play that song at Mass. So thank you! ;)
Yes and yes.
While our 3rd was caught up on catechism, I never got around to teaching her the alphabet, or sounds. Luckily she’s very bright and picked it up on her own. I sure hope #5 is bright too….
This is so funny, I had to read it out loud to my husband. We don’t have kids yet but when we do, I’ll make sure to have this handy reference sheet in our family binder!
There was only a 3 day lapse between the injury and the doctor’s appointment and it was only one itty bitty bone in his hand. And it was his turn to mow the lawn the day after he broke it, which you have to be bleeding to get out around here anyway, and he wasn’t. (In my defense it was Labor Day weekend, he got hurt on Friday and when I saw the swelling and bruising I took him to the dr the first thing Tuesday morning. He didn’t complain about it at all, either.) I will be smiling about your post for a few days. You sure know how to put my life into words!!
You are BEYOND BRILLIANT!
Re: broken bones… When I was 15, I fell off my horse as he was turning a slick corner in the road, and I landed on my chin on a gravel road. When I came to (however long THAT took), I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out… So, I rolled over, got up, walked to the pasture, let the horse in, removed the saddle, fed him, and rode my bike back home. When I walked into the house, my mom and my sister said, “Oh my gosh, what happened to YOU?!?!?” I tried to calm them down, saying, “It’s okay, I only lost a tooth.” I *had* lost a tooth, but the one next to it was sticking out sideways, and I was raw from my chin down to my sternum. The next day, I found out that I’d shattered my hard palate in the roof of my mouth, and three days after the fall, I found out that I’d broken BOTH collarbones. (No *wonder* it hurt so bad when I took that saddle off the horse…) Yeah, I know what it’s like to delay treatment for something serious… ;) But I take responsibility for delaying the treatment. Totally not my mom’s fault… To her credit, she *didn’t* say, “I told you so…” when the X-rays came back.
Thanks for the laughs, Simcha! Gotta share…
Thanks for the laughs!
In our house, we sing “Make me a hamburger with cheese”. Other church kids are shocked to hear such irreverence from “that big holy Catholic family”.
Hahaha, the door doesn’t need to be locked. Kids have EARS too, hahaha. I figured it out fast, especially when my room was above my parents’.
If I hadn’t already sprained my rib this week (it was a booster seat/seatbelt/passenger van/mom-can’t-wait-for-you-to-figure-out-how-to-buckle-it-yourself-we-really-have-to-go-now-quit-crying-you-can-buckle-yourself-in-on-the-way-back-I’ll-just-lean-waaaayyy-over-and-get-that-OWOWOWOW-related incident) laughing at this would have done the trick.
P.S. It only hurts when I laugh.
A little girl fell about three feet from the tree she was climbing. She said her arm hurt. Two days later, her dad noticed that the child seemed to be holding her arm at an odd angle and that she said her arm still hurt. The dad correctly suspected a broken arm, and after all, he would know: He’s an orthopedic surgeon. I’ve always been impressed that Dr. B. was humble enough to tell me the story.
DYING laughing here! Read this aloud to hubby. 16 year old son had to come in to see why we were laughing so loudly! Truly a work of art here, and so very, very true! Our six children ages 7, 10, 13, 16, 19, and 21 fit pretty much into this pattern….And of course, I am such a dedicated mama. Hahaha!
I laughed so hard (the St Francis prayer versions) that my ribs are still aching. Thank you, Simcha, for the column. (Father of five, Grandpa of 12, G-G Pa of three.) TeaPot562
“bitter, tank top-wearing Riot Grrrls who listen to Terry Gross and tattoo “I [heart] the culture of death” on their lower backs.”
Gosh! It’s like Simcha has MET me!
So funny! (But why drag Terry Gross into it? - she’s a brilliant interviewer! Really!)
I want to spend just five minutes inside your head. Genius!! I’m still laughing!
Oh! Simcha, I love you! I laughed so hard at this!
My children actually once shouted (in rather a small church) “We KNOW This one!” and began to belt out the words to “One Bed, One Body” much much more enthusiastically than ANYONE else could sing “One Bread, One Body”(choir master included).
Luckily we were visiting that parish and probably wont get back there…
One bed, one body.
One place of sleeping where we sleep
And we though many, throughout the house
We are each sleeping alone.
Boys or Girls, piled in bed, no more.
Many the beds, your father has bought, for you.
Clean sheets on the beds, each to his own, NOT gathered in one.
I have a daughter—age 11, home schooled by moi—who said “And to the Republic for witch’s dance”. So don’t feel bad. Anyone.
Lol, true story: When my father was in elementary school, he walked around with a broken arm for two days (happened in gym class, playing baseball). The coach and his parents didn’t believe him when he said it was broken. See, this happens ALL THE TIME. ;) And hey, this even happened in the Utopian-Golden-Age-of-traditional-perfect-parenting-before-the-sexual-revolution-exploded, so that makes it even MORE okay! ;)
Posted by Mary CJ on Sat. Oct 8 2011 12:10
Simcha, you have lifted a lot of hearts today. I am 69 and have agonized over the imperfect mom I’ve been with our six, four boys and two girls. How I love being with each and every one of them, with all their imperfections, as they work on their lives. I listen as our daughter with her three boys and one more on the way engages in the same self castigation. Nevertheless, her boys reflect that she just keeps loving them through their and her weaknesses. No matter how ridiculous we are, as a mom, you just get up, stumble on and keep the unconditional love foremost.
One day, when the furniture was all out of place and the room a colossal mess, a man I knew came to the front door and peered in to the living room. He made a disgusted face but I turned to see our beautiful, serious daughter, with multicolored veil over her head, walking along side her oldest brother who was robed as a donkey and on all fours. She had her dolly wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in her arms. Her other brother directed the play. It was Christmas. I have finally come to lifting the mess of our lives into the Baby’s arms.
I must say I’m a little disappointed in this combox. Nobody’s calling Simcha a terrible Catholic and a terrible mother. What are comboxes for anyway?
the offense: not knowing how to spell “offense” and repeatedly misspelling it throughout the article.
Thanks for playing MC.
http://www.grammarist.com/spelling/offence-offense/
“Offense is the preferred spelling in American English, while offence is preferred everywhere else. Both are real words, and neither is superior to the other. They’re exactly the same in all their definitions.”
ROFLOL, “The Jerk!” because I was about to post the SAME article! LOL! I was an English major, and I typically prefer British spelling….I Hope mc was joking? :) Happy Saturday and weekend to you all!
...and I might add, yes, I do know when to capitalize and to use proper grammar. But when replying to these things, I tend to write as I speak. And that is with slang, dangling participles, and other naughty things! Hope that doesn’t cause a problem. ;)
Broken Lock? LOL, this morning it was “she’s only three, she’ll never remember”...
1.) Did this with a broken neck…
2.) Youngest catechized the older ones and was justly rewarded by a stranger in Arbys for knowing all the mysteries… stranger was so moved that he went to his van and pulled out 5 tee shirts he was selling and presented them to my youngest.
3.) ok never did that one, but somehow oldest wore pajama bottoms to school on free dress day… mortified just the same (rectified by IRONING school uniforms for a week).
4.) Does “Lord teach us to PLAY” count?
5.) Did yours do the fake gagging/choking thing too?
6.) Does referring to their father as a sperm donor count?
7.) Just sweetly said, “Be with you in a minute…” or do what my sister did… hers opened the door saying “And I’ll huff and puff and blooooowwwww your house down” as he opened the door, So she responded, “Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin!” as she pulled the covers up..
Erica: I’m so along your line! That is hilarious!
Simcha:
Of course, one of the worst offenses today for Catholic moms is being negative at all about the stresses of motherhood. When you have a big family, if you complain even momentarily of exhaustion, the people with “one child only syndrome” will reprimand you high and low and put a big sticker of BLAME on your shoulder. Of course, it is probably secret jealousy or pride but they will never admit that ;)
Wonderful article again!
Regina: Oh my goodness, that was hilarious what your daughter said! LOL
Okay, I know we all have our story of “my mom was so bad that. . . . . ” But I just gotta share this so none of you mommies of big families feel bad about your mistakes: I love my mom. She is a saint who had ten children and sacrificed everything for us. But when I was 4 years old, my parents finally figured out that I had been BORN with a dislocated hip. They just thought that I had a little bit of a limp. By the time they discovered the problelm, I had worn away the hip socket by walking with it dislocated for so long. I had surgery and stayed in a body cast for 4 months in the hospital. Even after all that, I don’t feel that my parents neglected me. They made mistakes but they gave me my life. I can only imagine what they felt when they found out that they were pregnant with the 10th! For giving me life, they are my heroes and you will be also to your children.
Delightful!
You are an idiot
And an irresponsible foolish journalist who should have known and written better
You had me (and my wife)in stitches! I used to sing ‘Channel of your peace’ every Friday at school - never will be able to sing it out again without guffawing now, thanks to you…!
The wonder is how you regularly manage to write such good posts AND run such a large family at the same time. Kudos :)
@Betty
When people share - give of themselves - to lighten our load and make us laugh or smile for a while, they are doing a selfless act of charity. They also make us, or most of us at any rate, feel that we are part of one big family, going through and sharing similar experiences. We are united in brotherhood as together, we work our way towards life everlasting. And yes, we can laugh at ourselves and the things we do. Or most of us can, at any rate…
@Betty: I’m incredibly offended. How dare you call me a journalist?
Wondering if poor Betty’s account was hacked, because surely someone with a lovely name like Betty wouldn’t leave a comment like that? And I have shared this column with all my friends, Catholic or not, because all my friends who are parents completely understand this. The longer I am a mother, the more I have to learn. Just when I think I’ve got it, something else comes along to completely confuse me! Keeping humor is about my only way of managing! Thanks be to God for writers like you, and for the gift of humor.
Keep it comin’ Thanks for being willing to share of yourself journalist or not…
Matt- Nobody messes with a pregnant mother of many- especially Simcha. As for catechism- my daughter (#5) practiced for First Holy Communion, announcing that she was saying her “Act of Nutrition” in which she stated that she was “hardly sorry” for her sins. Thankfully, the well-taught older ones caught this in time. And Simcha- You embarrass me. How could you possibly have the same bright idea of letting the olders teach the youngers…AND that this idea, like so many others never left the TO DO List? I feel the shame.
I love it!
I can relate especially with the second problem. We were homeschooling our kids during my eldest’s sacramental year, so we did our very best to make sure he was prepared. We brought him, as a family, to the church for his first confession. There were five or six children going to confession and Isaiah was first in line. The kids behind him had to abandon their line and go to the next priest because he took so long in confessing his(many)sins (scrupulus?) Anyway, while we were waiting for him, my daughter who is on my lap looks around to the side of the church were there is a life size crucifix, and says, “Mommy, who’s that dead guy up there?” You can’t win them all!
Kerry and SharonM! Those stories are great. My day just got a lot better.
I am a new mommy after 13 years of praying and finally being blessed after a novena to Pope John Paul II. Lucy Rose will be 1 year next month. As a new stay at home mom I have enjoyed this webpage and comments! I’m hoping every Catholic is true as I’m looking for a REAL Catholic community open to life (no artificial birth control) showing their trust in God’s prodivence :) Thanks everyone for your great comments and making me feel like I’m not the only one! :) God bless!
I love that tongue-in-cheek saying of St. Josemaria Escriva that goes something like: “Pride leaves the body two hours after death” What could possibly be more humiliating than parenthood? Haha It’s been good for my ego to have to be an “idiot” on occasion, when I’d rather not! “Perfect” mothers are hard to swallow.
Simcha,
You’re the best!!! Thanks for getting me through a very tough night. 5 kids, no predictability…whatsoever.
The cat wiskers on that face - that is great. I did something similar to my sister’s face once and told her it would get her out of going to church. Parents just used LAVA or something to get it off. Not sure if she’s forgiven me yet.
Simcha - I sense a reality show here.
REALLY! It would be ...ah… hilarious! Although you’d probably have to sign something about making sure locks were fixed.
Life is soooooo very funny hey readers?
Humour helps ....yes to a degree…
BUT when a mother stops being a mother and demeans her role by taking on the “friendship” tag with her kids then chaos ensues.
Try it and see. There is most definitely a massive difference between being a mother and a friend. This problem is one of the / if not major problems of this world and western society in particular.
Helpful and inspirational writing to take your motherhood role should be more promoted than egotistical look at me look at me I am so useless and aren’t I hilarious dribble.Before condemning nother mother and grandmother think about if Our Lady would write such a tawdry piece Simcha. CERTAINLY NOT. Why? Because life is not a JOKE particularly your sacramental role.
Awww. Prayers all around. I think we’re all in this boat together, and I have certainly had to use humor to get through my most difficult moments (six children, several of whom have mild to severe disabilities). My husband and I are most definitely respected as The Parents. We are not our children’s friends, although we can and do laugh and enjoy our times together. We also cry together. We know that we’re a team, a family, the Domestic Church, and we are part of The Body of Christ. Simcha, I appreciate your writing and your humor. I wish I’d had friends like you when my children were younger. Would have saved me a lot of pain and worry. I see that my children (ages seven through twenty-one) are turning out just fine, despite our many mistakes and shortcomings. God bless you and keep you. And Betty, I think we just have to agree to disagree. I appreciate your concern; however, it looks like many of us just have different styles of humor and coping. BTW, the word I think you meant was “drivel,” and not “dribble.” But either way, I still maintain that it was great humorous writing about the very realistic lives we lead as mothers of many young ones. God bless you all. And may He forgive us our very human natures. Mother Mary, comfort us and give us peace with all we have been entrusted with. We mothers need to stick together! Blessings.
One of my favorite parts in The Passion of the Christ was when Jesus was washing his hands as Mary held the water and he splashed her. I thought that was so typical of a son and that Jesus was probably every bit a boy in that way. Betty, I think Mary had a sense of humor. Even a little bit of irreverence is important because it teaches our children not to take every little thing quite so seriously. I like that this article made me realize at the outset that my excessive guilt is pride in disguise. That will give me something to chew on all day and possibly all week. Secondly, I like that it made me laugh at myself and all the mistakes I made. Because she is speaking of mistakes here and not purposefully sinful acts.
I’m still trying to figure out how one can write “you’re an idiot” in one comment, and follow it up with “you don’t sound enough like the Virgin Mary!”
Betty,
Chill out.
Haven’t laughed so much or as loudly in ages. Tank ewe!
Thanks for making the connection between (some)guilt and pride. That is the real gem is this very funny piece. I have learned to say, “Thank you Jesus,” for those embarrassing moments as he works on my pride.
Hello ladies and moms out there. My wife made me read this and would maybe be horrified if, or when she sees that I responded. I didn’t read all the comments, but I saw that Betty was getting a lot of attention, so I was sure to look for her thoughts. She brings up the question of being your kid’s friend. I’ve been thinking about this lately and I just want to toss out a question, because I’ve heard it said before that parenting goals should not include being their friend. Doesn’t our faith reveal that God’s ultimate desire is to have friendship with us? At least that is what I just heard from a terrific Priest, Fr John Riccardo (google him). It made me think, if God stoops humbly to our level with a desire to be our friend, can’t I be confident in my desire to imitate him and humble myself to give in to my desire to be a friend to my children? His friendship doesn’t mess us up and spoil us - his friendship is our only hope of salvation! I think that is a tremendous example for our responsibility as parents. Look at how many children without good relationships at home end up struggling their way through life as adults always trying to heal from what their parents didn’t give them. I am not suggesting that we could ever replace the role of God by giving our children what they need perfectly. But Jesus does call us to be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect. After his example and his call we should not be afraid that we will mess up our kids, we should be confident that our Father will give us what we need to love them well.
Well, what a relief to finally find someone else who didn’t recognize a broken bone for a while. My son fell off the bed, which wasn’t even on a frame, just the mattress + boxspring, and onto a carpet. He cried, then seemed to get a bit better, and it took about 18 hours including a phone call to Telehealth and my mother and finally an emergency room visit before I discovered his collarbone was broken. My solution for the guilt was exactly as you discribed - tell everyone, lament loudly and see? It’s true! I did eventually hear of it happening to someone else.
I normally don’t like to post comments this late in the game, but I think this example might be helpful.
The Offence:
Losing track of your only child and being halfway home from your big trip to Jerusalem before you realize he was still back at the temple.
The Solution:
Well, the temple elders learned a thing or two, so it wasn’t a total loss.
Things happen, even despite the best efforts and intentions of good people. We can accept them and deal with them—laughing them off if necessary—or we can succumb to scrupulosity and self-loathing. Having some experience with the latter, I applaud Simcha for choosing the former.
I have nine kids, as well and I LOVE this lady because she “gets” me!
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