My Own Worst Critic

There was a time that I thought I had figured out what I would do when I was a mother.

And then I had Lucas and I learned that I am my own worst critic.

Lucas weaned himself at about 9 months. He had no interest in nursing, pushing me away but then gobbling down a bottle of formula when offered. Then I turned on myself. How could I not nurse him till he was at least a year? If he doesn't get breast milk anymore, am I failing him? I had to push these thoughts aside and put his needs ahead of my own desire to nurse him. Lucas was in jeopardy of not getting enough milk so onto formula we moved. And I felt a bit like a failure.

I make Lucas' food from scratch. I do get a sense of accomplishment in knowing that I'm providing for him, but I'm also convinced it's cheaper. A bag of apples makes A LOT of applesauce. But there have been times when we've been in transit, travelling where keeping homemade food refrigerated really isn't a possibility. So we turned to the jarred foods, sometimes feeding him only one selection just to ensure he eats when he's being picky. I admit it - again I felt like a failure.

Lucas has figured out how to stand and now pulls himself up on to everything. He woke up from a nap with a bruise on his temple. And I felt like a failure.

Maureen Turner, a blogger at Yummy Mummy Club recently wrote about how parents judge each other. In reading her post, that I am my own judge and jury. I critique how I raise Lucas every day, wondering if I'm meeting some impossibly high standard that I've conjured up in my own mind.

I have to take time to step back and realize that a jar of food is not the end of the world. Neither is the bruise or the bottle of formula.

Lucas is happy so I should be too.