That First Day

It’s the first day, the day after you drop your child off to someone else; their dad, their grandma, their aunt, whomever. That day you wake up with no little hands in your face, no morning calls of “mommy, mommy, mommy,”  and no cartoons on the T.V. The quietness is kind of calm, relaxing, and a bit eerie. And the question hits you,

“Am I a bad mom for this?” 

Sure, there is no childcare figured out yet, so there is no possible way AJ could have stayed with me as I am finalizing everything to make sure he is taken care of while Antonio and I are at work once we are fully settled in... but it never stops that question in my head about whether I am doing the right thing or not. There is a constant battle in myself of enjoying my weird free time and the guilt that I have because I’m not with my baby.

Because mom guilt is the worst. 

I’ve never been away from AJ for more than a few days for work related trips that I couldn’t bring him along to. So, the fact that I’m going another 2 weeks without him is super weird and I’m still not sure how to process it, especially the first day. There is a mix of depression guilt that makes me want to stay in bed all day, along with motivation to get my ass up and get everything done so he can be back sooner, with a dash of “Alex just relax and kick back, enjoy the clean house and everything.” 

 So, here I am today sitting on the back lanai and watching the dogs play with each other debating on what to do with myself. On one hand, I have interviews to get to and a meeting at a local gym this evening to prepare for, but on the other, it’s just so quiet. I can’t think. 

When did quietness start to bother me? 

Oh, right. I had a crazy boy, who loves noise and making messes. Who is currently all cuddled up in the cold state of Michigan with his daddy while I’m here battling with myself   because I’m not sure what to do, or how to feel. Though, I know I desperately need this time to get things done that I couldn’t do when he was here with me, I still feel like I’m doing something wrong. 

It’s a struggle. You have people that tell you that you’re such a bad person for wanting to have a career. For not being with your child every moment of every single day already as it is, because you have to work to provide for that said child. Your selfish and only thinking of yourself..

So, what does that make me now? 

Am I a bad mom for wanting a better future for my family? Because, I’ll be real honest here, there is nothing for us back home career wise for me, housing wise for our dogs, or even just spiritually to look forward to and try to strive and achieve. Even if that means leaving our family behind, does it make us bad for wanting to fulfill happiness? We never had plans to stay in Michigan, and sure Florida might not have been the favorite for everyone in our family (Antonio is still not too keen on the jungle vibe, which of course I love ha!), but the guilt that is placed on us for making this decision is exhausting. 

The things that have been said and can’t be taken back... I have a memory of an elephant. Sure, I act like I don’t because they fucking hurt to remember. And trust me, sitting around and playing nice like it didn’t happen is more painful than continuing the drama because I’m not over it. But I’m a mom, and I have to be the bigger person for my child, even if that means biting my tongue and putting myself through the continuous guilt to make our family succeed. 

So so tell me again how I’m a bad mom for putting my child’s needs above other people’s wants. Because, I promise you, I will go through hell and back for that little boy, to make sure he has a better life than I could ever dream for him. Because that is what a parent does. They love unconditionally, they want their children to succeed, and they understand that no one is perfect and mistakes will happen, but it is what you learn through the process that matters. 

I am not a bad mom. This decision does not make me a bad mom. The temporary distance does not make me a bad mom. 

I’m human. So yes, the guilt will get to me, even if I have no reason to feel guilty. But, it does, and that’s okay. I’m allowed to feel down, to feel a bit confused, and to just not understand what is going on in my own personal battle. I just refuse to let it define me. Sure, I question it, but at the end of the day...

I’m a good mom, and that is why this first day is fucking hell.