Being good is hard work

For the past month Savie has had a very loose tooth. I really wish this tooth would fall out on its own but it’s not doing so well. It’s getting closer and closer but it just won’t fall out. I ask her about it, when I notice that she is messing with it, otherwise I don’t bother her with it.

Friday night is my night to “me” stuff. Go to the movies, go for a drive, whatever. It’s very hard to enjoy my “me” time when I get a voice mail from her crying and screaming, saying that something is wrong. I, of course, want to come home and find out what is wrong. What type of   mother would I be if my heart didn’t hurt when I heard her cry? I leave things early, or don’t leave town because I have that sinking feeling that something is going to go wrong. Being a good mom, along with all the other things I do, is hard work.

WHen I think about what I could, I feel guilty. Even though I know that she is going to be fine, that he will work things out or that she will fall asleep soon, it doesn’t make me feel any better. What if this is one of those times when he can’t fix it? What if she cries herself to sleep? Will she feel better in  the morning? Will I feel guiltily knowing that she cried herself to sleep? Even though I know that half an hour after I get home to soothe her, she will be asleep, it doesn’t make it easier for me. I need to be there for her. I need her to know, that f something happens and she wants me, I will be there.

Being a good mom is hard work. And I love it.

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