Good Enough Mom

Hi, my name is Anne, and I can be an insecure parent.

"Hi, Anne."

I spend way too much time second guessing my choices and worrying about how one decision or another is going to affect my child for life.  I've wondered how long each will need therapy, and which of my many mistakes they'll tell their shrink about.  Is it the Lord of the Rings middle names we gave them?  Is it how I made Reagan write me a paper on why the rules apply to him, when I know he hates writing more than any other consequence?

Then I remind myself that they'll have way more to tell their therapist about their dad than me.

I really thought my parents always knew exactly what they were doing.  But here I am, flying blind and hoping that I'm getting enough right that someday they still come to visit me, bring by grandchildren, and pick out a really nice nursing home for me.  Especially the nursing home part.

I'm trying to remember that as much as I'm not a perfect parent, they're not perfect kids either.  So it'll all work out in the end.  And as much as what we read may tell us that we have to feed our kids this, or dress them that way, or cosleep, or crib sleep, or whatever, it is not those decisions by themselves that make or break us as parents.  It's the totality of who we are, what we teach them, and the relationships we form that
help make them who they are.  And in that sense, I'm doing just fine.