Expectations (and Thanks, Mom)

For some reason a topic has been on my mind. A LOT.

Expectations.

Expectations as a parent. As a wife. As a woman. As a member of the community.

Today the furnace stopped working suddenly. I took a catnap while Gabriel was taking his morning nap and I awoke shivering. I peeked at the thermostat and it was sixty degrees! After realizing there was nothing I could do to fix it, we set up for the landlord to arrange a repairman. When I realized that someone would be coming into my home (which for some reason already feels like an invasion) I panicked. My eyes went from the sink, overflowing with dishes, to the couch, covered in folded laundy (yes, at LEAST it was clean and folded). I started to worry about what this repairman, a perfect stranger, would think of me because my house wasn't spotless.  I did the mad last-minute rush tackling a few of the dishes, cleaning up clutter, etc. And of course the guy spent all of his time in the utility room (covered in boxes and clutter, btw) and only came in the house to adjust the thermostat.

Why did I feel the need to do this? Yes, the house wasn't in the best of shape, but it wasn't horrible, either! It was messy, but I wouldn't say it was dirty. There's a big difference for sure. No need to call the Health Department, man. There were random things on the table and counters, some old bottles sitting out, an empty soda can or two, and of course, some boxes waiting to be unpacked (I'm making progress, I swear). While writing that last sentence I noticed I don't give myself credit for the good parts- I had just vaccuumed, the laundry was done, Gabe was in a clean diaper, clean clothes and had just taken a good nap (falling asleep on his own). His toys were picked up, the trash had been emptied, the cat fed. Not that I should compare myself to others, but there are plenty of other people who do not even have the goal the get their homes in order.  How 'bout giving myself a pat on the back for caring so much that I worry too much?

Here's a little background for you. I'm gonna lay back and talk about myself now (I didn't plan on writing this, it just came to me as I typed- actually, it gave me some great insight into myself):

My childhood was a happy one, but it was also .......unpredictable. A lot of changes happened, much more than you'd want for your family. I watched my mom struggle raising me and my brothers alone. She fought for our wellbeing SO HARD. SO HARD. She was left in a position that I wouldn't wish on anyone. I was small at the time, and even though her world was falling apart I had no idea. She was THAT good at making me feel safe, protected.  All the fiancial and marital problems were threatening to destroy our family and she refused to let it do that. Unfortunately, and it's hard to say, but when I say family, I mean my brothers, me and my mom. I love my Dad, but things happened that were out of his control, and he was unable to be Dad for awhile.  My mom fought hard to save our home from foreclosure. She rented out two of the bedrooms in our four bedroom house; one to a single mother and her daughter, the other to a woman, then later a woman and I think two kids.  We were one full house for awhile. My brothers shared a room and I shared a room with my mom. I felt so special! I got to room with Mom! What was hardship she had disguised as adventure- and it became a fun adventure! How cool is that? She did her best to try to keep us in our home but it wasn't meant to be. It was probably the lowest time in her life, but she didn't give up. She didn't abandon us, leave us with grandparents and expect them to take on her load.

So, Mr. Psychiatrist, I'm sure you can see where these worries of mine come from. I am wanting to be as dedicated as my mom. She fought tooth and nail to make sure we had food, shelter, and even Christmas presents. New shoes for school, the "cool toys" that we were all too worried about having. Can I live up to that? Will Gabriel one day be able to look back at his childhood and say, "my mom loves me so much that she sacrificed, sacrificed, sacrificed."? Will he and *hopefully* future children know how much I love them and that I would do anything for them?

So all of this, plus a conversation I had with my mom yesterday have made me realize that I am doing something right, and am spending too much time worrying about what is expected of me. I had been telling my mom about how I felt like I didn't know if I was doing a good enough job in certain aspects of raising Gabe- getting him to sleep on his own, to "properly" introduce more solid foods, to make sure he's getting enough playtime, etc. I worry. I worry too dang much. And my mom was really great at making me feel better! She said something to the effect of "you know, Gabriel is such a happy, very attached child, and has consistently been at a healthy weight, so don't stress out so much about doing something wrong and realize what you've done right".

Thanks, Mom, I couldn't have said it any better.

I am going to try to focus less on other's expectations and more on what my expectations are. I want to have a "tidy" house. I want to make sure I spend quality time playing with my son wrestling and acting a fool. I don't want my attention to constantly be on something else, when maybe it should be on him. He doesn't care if the bathroom needs mopped, or trash emptied. He just wants me.

So take, that, world.