It was about two weeks ago, we were walking home from school and crossing the park when I saw the sign. I got kinda giddy and smiled and announced to the kids "who wants to play baseball?" They all looked at me like I was crazy. But come on!! How cute would my kids look in a baseball uniform?!! Priceless right?! Except that happiness came at a price of $80 per kid.
So I sat and thought for a while, figured maybe we could just cut back on our once a week dinners out to the local hamburger place. I could sell a few jars and we could actually afford it right?!
I was excited...you see when I was younger I have fond memories of going to the park on weekends playing soccer or watching my younger brother play baseball. I wanted those kinds of memories for my kids too, park junk food and just having fun.
Then I just sat here one night like I usually do and I was looking up youtube videos to show Racer to help explain what baseball is. We've watched it on tv a few times but I don't think he's ever put two and two together. In the background I hear the kids fight over some board game they were playing , Racer getting frustrated as usual and it hit me....the mommy guilt. I struggled with it for a week it seems, wrestled it back and forth in my head.
What is really the point of all this drive to have Racer in sports? It wasn't because he wanted to play, he's never even asked me. Hell I don't think he's ever even given it a passing thought. We are huge football players and even though Wolverine has expressed interest in playing Racers never even asked. So why was I pushing so much for this? Why was I willing to take away our dinners together for this?
It dawned on me that I needed this more then they needed this. I needed it or wanted it to feel like a normal parent. I want to feel like I fit in with the rest of the mom crowd. I've been a mom for 15yrs now, that was 9yrs of normal mommy crap before I became a parent of a special needs child. I long for the weekends at the park, pizza parties on Saturdays and gossip after I drop the kids off at school. I'm a shell of what that mom used to be. Now I am on alert, the crazed mom who can't wait to get back home after I drop them off so I can breathe, eat or even catch a nap before the lil ones wake up. I realized something about myself, that when I walk out that door I look the part of a mother who's children have special needs. Hell I can pick others out of a crowd. I used to think I wore it as a badge of honor, now its like a marker. But it makes me sad, it makes me feel alone.
So enter the mom guilt, because what the heck is wrong with me if I'm pushing crap on my kids that I want them to do. When did I lose sight of making sure they were happy, because right now they are. They don't want baseball.....but the love going to that burger joint for dinner. They love placing their orders with daddy and helping him bring the trays. They love that I let them get refills of soda on their own. That's making them happy, not weekends at the park.
I'm always going to struggle with the mommy guilt, I'm always going to want what we can't have. Maybe some where down the line Racer will want to play sports, but I want it to be on his terms not my needs.