I felt like a crappy mother yesterday. Expect these days in grad school. I felt like a crappy friend the day before that. Expect those days too. In fact if you plan to attempt to be a grad student while you simultaneously have children, friendships, and other non-academic commitments you will inevitably have days or weeks where you feel like you suck at everything. (If all you are is a grad student, you will have times where you feel like you are terrible at that, so make sure it isn't the only thing you are doing).
So what makes me a crappy friend? The day before yesterday I had a friend text me to express high levels of exasperation with her husband, who also happens to be a good friend of mine. He forgot to take care of an errand. This was not the first or second or even twentieth time, and that is a difficult pattern to accept sometimes. As she vented herself into a frenzy, I simultaneously sunk into empathic failure. Her concern and frustration were valid, and I could acknowledge that. Where I got stuck was the presentation she gave of having to do "everything". I happen to know he helps around the house, is a great parent, and earns enough that she doesn't work outside the home but still gets to have a cleaning lady. Seriously? Everything? That is what I do. I don't have a cleaning lady. I don't have a wage earning partner, or a co-parent, or someone I can ask to run an errand, or someone I can get a hug from at the end of the day. Don't get me wrong, I am not feeling sorry for myself; I just didn't have enough "give a damn" left for the drama. I chose this path for very good reasons, but that doesn't mean it is easy. And even I have days where I am wiped out and there isn't enough empathy left in my cup to share with my dearest friends. So instead I called her on her drama, validated her feelings of frustration, and told her I would be in touch later when I could participate in the conversation in a more loving way, because I do get it. I just sometimes don't get how people can be so blind to the gifts in their lives. Maybe that is because I am so unaccustomed to the things she takes for granted, and I take for granted my freedom from the frustrations that she faces being in a partnership. So I felt like a crappy friend...
Then what makes me a crappy mother? Yesterday I spent the morning with a client at the inpatient unit, then saw clients at one clinic all afternoon, followed by a late client at yet another clinic. I did not get done until 730 in the evening, and I was completely exhausted. I had a text from the kids waiting for me; no one had eaten yet. OK, so now I was anticipating arriving home at 8 to three hungry birds, having to decide what to cook, preparing that, and all of us eating at 9ish. I just didn't have the energy in myself to do this. So I called the house "choose where you want me to get dinner from and text me what you want so I have a list when I get there." I cringed, knowing what was probably coming...and true to form, the choice was Taco Bell. OK, look for the positive; at least I don't have to cook, they get to eat sooner, and we'll crawl into our beds at a semi-decent hour. They were so excited when I walked through the door with "toxic hell" that they all hurried into the kitchen, set the table and poured milks, and we had lively dinner conversation. They had even fed he dog before I got home! As much as I dislike it, feeding such questionable ingestibles does not plummet me to the level of "crappy mother", nor does being hard working and occasionally absent in the evenings. But I don't like it, and when it happens I feel like a lousy mom...
Well, this gave me an opportunity to call myself on my own drama as well. I DON'T do everything. I have three wonderful children who I love spending time with. My not-so-little darlings are full participants in this busy life; one loads the dishwasher, another unloads it, and the third sweeps the kitchen. They do their own laundry for the most part. They help with taking care of our geriatric pooch. My son enjoys mowing the lawn sometimes, and my youngest daughter likes digging in the garden. They usually remember to write stuff on the grocery list when they notice we are low. Sometimes they need reminders and sometimes they function more independently, but they rarely fuss or complain (especially compared to the average teenagers). And they sometimes even enjoy hugs. With 2 on the spectrum and the other a 14 year old there are fewer hugs than I would like; but this isn't all about me, its about our family.
Another thing I have learned from experience is not to believe everything I feel. Feeling like a bad mom or friend doesn't mean I am a bad mom or friend. It just means I am human. I suppose I better get used to that, because I expect it won't change any time soon.
