I lost my perfect parent card before my maternity leave was even over. I can’t remember how old my daughter was when it happened, maybe two months? We were smack dab in the middle of a sleepless streak. No reason for it, she was well fed, clean diaper, perfect temperature, and next to our bed; she just wouldn’t sleep. On this night, she had woken for the zillionth time, and so as to not wake my husband, I took her downstairs to our living room. There on our couch, with a perfect combination of exhaustion and warm baby, I drifted off to sleep with her on my chest. This went against everything I had read, perfect first time parent that I was – Always put the baby on her back, don’t let the baby sleep on a soft surface, etc. I don’t know how long it was before I woke up, 5 seconds, 5 minutes, 5 hours, but any rest I got was quickly undone by the panic I felt.
She’s fine, she’s fine, she’s fine.
But I wasn’t. Not even close. Not even a little bit.
There was some severe sobbing happening in my house that night, but it didn’t come from the baby. In my panic-stricken state, I promised myself I would never fall asleep again. I think I made it 5 minutes.
The next day, I confessed my sins to several friends, all moms, who looked at me like I had three eyeballs.
“Isn’t that the best?! They’re so warm and snuggly.”
“What do you mean you aren’t supposed to let them sleep on you?”
No one else seemed to care that I had lost my perfect parent card.
So I made it about 2 months. My husband just lost his this past week. Our adorable, adventurous, and not so steady toddler fell off the couch. Now since I was an old pro at being an imperfect parent, I shrugged it off. She barely cried, was alert right after, and didn’t even have the smallest goose egg to show for herself. But he was a wreck. It didn’t help that he Googled it. He called the doctor, watched her sleep, then insisted I bubble wrap her the next day (that might be an exaggeration, but I could tell he would if he could).
This time, I looked at him like he had three eyeballs.
“She’s just figuring out how to climb, she’s going to fall.”
“She’s fine, it’s how she learns.”
It didn’t help him either. Gone was the perfect parent card.
We all lose it. Some earlier than others, some later. I knew someone who didn’t lose hers until her kid was in HIGH SCHOOL.
It doesn’t seem to matter when we lose it, the effect is the same. Sheer devastation. It’s as if all the good that parent had done leading up until that very moment is forgotten, leaving behind this dirty, shameful shell.
But let me tell you this: “You (yes imperfect you) are a great parent.” We are all going to experience bumps in the road that threaten our perfect parent status. It’s how we handle those bumps that matter. If our kiddo fell off the couch and actually hurt herself, we would be all over it. We would move mountains to make sure she had the best doctors and the fanciest ice pack. That’s what you do when you are a parent. You keep them as safe as you can, and then when things happen that you can’t manage, you get help.
That’s why there are teachers, doctors, and therapists out there. Because we can’t be perfect all the time. We need help. Judgment-free help.
And after we get that help, we have to give ourselves a little grace. Falling asleep with my kiddo shouldn’t negate all the good things – the zillions of lullabies, the hours of breastfeeding, and the YEAR I’d gone without caffeine. My kiddo falling off the couch doesn’t cancel out all the nights my husband reads her bedtime stories and chases her around the backyard.
We aren’t perfect. Our kids aren’t perfect. Just keep doing the best you can and love, love, love them completely.
When did you lose your perfect parent card?
She’s fine, she’s fine, she’s fine.
But I wasn’t. Not even close. Not even a little bit.
There was some severe sobbing happening in my house that night, but it didn’t come from the baby. In my panic-stricken state, I promised myself I would never fall asleep again. I think I made it 5 minutes.
The next day, I confessed my sins to several friends, all moms, who looked at me like I had three eyeballs.
“Isn’t that the best?! They’re so warm and snuggly.”
“What do you mean you aren’t supposed to let them sleep on you?”
No one else seemed to care that I had lost my perfect parent card.
So I made it about 2 months. My husband just lost his this past week. Our adorable, adventurous, and not so steady toddler fell off the couch. Now since I was an old pro at being an imperfect parent, I shrugged it off. She barely cried, was alert right after, and didn’t even have the smallest goose egg to show for herself. But he was a wreck. It didn’t help that he Googled it. He called the doctor, watched her sleep, then insisted I bubble wrap her the next day (that might be an exaggeration, but I could tell he would if he could).
This time, I looked at him like he had three eyeballs.
“She’s just figuring out how to climb, she’s going to fall.”
“She’s fine, it’s how she learns.”
It didn’t help him either. Gone was the perfect parent card.
We all lose it. Some earlier than others, some later. I knew someone who didn’t lose hers until her kid was in HIGH SCHOOL.
It doesn’t seem to matter when we lose it, the effect is the same. Sheer devastation. It’s as if all the good that parent had done leading up until that very moment is forgotten, leaving behind this dirty, shameful shell.
But let me tell you this: “You (yes imperfect you) are a great parent.” We are all going to experience bumps in the road that threaten our perfect parent status. It’s how we handle those bumps that matter. If our kiddo fell off the couch and actually hurt herself, we would be all over it. We would move mountains to make sure she had the best doctors and the fanciest ice pack. That’s what you do when you are a parent. You keep them as safe as you can, and then when things happen that you can’t manage, you get help.
That’s why there are teachers, doctors, and therapists out there. Because we can’t be perfect all the time. We need help. Judgment-free help.
And after we get that help, we have to give ourselves a little grace. Falling asleep with my kiddo shouldn’t negate all the good things – the zillions of lullabies, the hours of breastfeeding, and the YEAR I’d gone without caffeine. My kiddo falling off the couch doesn’t cancel out all the nights my husband reads her bedtime stories and chases her around the backyard.
We aren’t perfect. Our kids aren’t perfect. Just keep doing the best you can and love, love, love them completely.
When did you lose your perfect parent card?
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