“I’m a terrible mother, it’s my fault, I’m ruining my children.” What mother has not had defeating thoughts like these? I recently attended a discussion group about the “myths of motherhood” at Mental Fitness Center in downtown Rochester, Michigan. A group of various professionals intermingled with new and expecting mothers to give a face to some of the irrational expectations that mothers feel pressured to live up to. We created quite a list including things like “I should always have a clean home; I should cook dinner happily every night; and I should never feel angry, sad or lonely.”
 

On the drive home I realized how these myths of motherhood morph into myths of childhood as our children grow. As a mother of three children aged four and younger, I began to realize how, long before even considering motherhood, I had expectations of how my children would behave. I remember thinking things like, “I would never let my child act like that,” or “my child would 'get it' if they said that to me.”

Little did I realize at the time that my solutions suggested a belief that the parents were doing something wrong.  It wasn’t long into Motherhood that I found the “problems” I saw with other peoples children were not as easily solved as I had imagined, and I believed that the “bad” behavior was my fault and I was a failure for not being able to control it or them.
 

I have a much different view of how to gauge my performance as a mother now, but I remember trying to put my first child down for a nap at about 18 months old. Not only did she not just lie down and fall asleep, but all the notions of singing sweet lullabies and rocking my precious child in my arms were blown out of the water by her screaming and flailing persistence not to sleep. I remember feeling confused about why it wasn’t working, powerless to change the situation, and guilty at the anger and frustration I felt toward the child that I loved so dearly.
 

Naptime was not the only myth I fell into. I expected very high things out my children with no basis in reality for them except that as a society member before having children, I couldn’t “tolerate” anything less than perfect adult behavior out of every child no matter their age or circumstances. I thought if I were a good Mom, my children would quietly walk beside me in the store. They would always say please and thank you. They would never fight or hurt someone else, would share willingly and agree with me on every request big or small. Above all else, I believed if they didn’t do those things that and if I was a good Mother, I would have some magical power to make them do it or stop doing it. These myths are further drilled into our minds when we perceive some families as “perfect,” which is a myth in of it entirely.
 

Things are different now because I came to understand that the adults I want my children to grow into and the effects of controlling their behavior are opposites and the myths I believed about how my children would behave do not allow me to love them for who they are. Even more profoundly, believing those myths does not allow my children to be human, with needs, emotions, dislikes, and upsets. Just as our spouses have different opinions and do things differently than we do, so do our kids. I’ve learned that it’s okay if my daughter needs to finish singing to her baby before answering my demand to brush her teeth, that my son’s tantrum is a signal of an unmet need, not a tactic to manipulate me. I might not understand the need, I might even disagree with it or find it foolish, but I now have the tools necessary to help me accept it, listen to them, and build a lasting bond of unconditional love that they need. Part of that toolset involves recognizing and dispelling expectations, dispelling myths, accepting my children through good, bad and ugly, and taking up their side when others are against them. Imagine the power that kind of love will have over both of you. A tantrum in the midst of the grocery store ensues, and as the passers-by begin to visibly show their disgust, you stick up for your child saying, “we’re okay, it’s been a tough day.” Your child is safe and secure knowing you love him even at his ugliest, and you’re able to get through the challenge reminded of your love and sympathy for him instead of feeling annoyed and embarrassed.
 

At the end of the day, the myths will still haunt us. At 4:30 in the afternoon, when the house goes into meltdown mode, we’ll beg for anything to make this job easier. That is precisely the moment that I think you should throw in the towel, let whatever is not happening to your expectations go, lie down on the floor and let your children crawl all over you with love and admiration as you breathe and regain your composure. As they wrestle with you, take the view from the onlooker and say… “boy, what a good mother am I.”

Just as our spouses have different opinions and do things differently than we do, so do our kids. I’ve learned that it’s okay if my daughter needs to finish singing to her baby before answering my demand to brush her teeth, that my son’s tantrum is a signal of an unmet need, not a tactic to manipulate me.