I don't like the title. I don't like admitting that sometimes I feel incompetent. Not just imperfect, but unable to even figure it out. It=anything and sometimes everything.
But recently, with Papa's last trip away from home, I heard that little voice inside me that said, "Mama, you gotta let that incompetent feeling go...it's silly and untrue and it keeps you from yourself and it keeps others from you, too."
Oh, Little Voice, why do you challenge me so?
So Papa went away for 6 days and prior to that I had mild (well, I hoped it was mild) anxiety about his absence. I printed out a calendar of those 6 days, and filled in my schedule so that I would not be stuck (nor subject K to my stuck-ness) at home. I had a car, that was helpful. I was always able to go somewhere.
I had one night of sleeping with K taken care of (without sleep I become crazy), thanks to the in-laws. I had Monday covered with Auntie. The rest of the days were the same, as if papa were here. K had regular care with his other Auntie. I planned to hang with a friend on Friday, family came late Friday night to stay the weekend. Saturday I hung out with cousin while K went to the zoo with friends, Saturday night extended family came over for dinner (which I didn't prepare, but sort of managed as a potluck/make your own pizza). On Sunday I met with our birth class group for brunch and I took friends up on their dinner offer after a nap in between. We had a rough night on Sunday, but I didn't die. Neither did K. On Monday we went to Auntie and Uncle's house and instead of berating myself about how I should spend my time (work, sleeping, cleaning), I allowed myself to take walks, enjoy family, get another dinner made for us (notice the theme), and then head home later in the night so K would just transfer right to sleep.
Papa came home Monday night really late, and the 6 days ended with no breakdowns, emergency room visits, or frayed nerves.
I'm guilty of thinking it's a fluke, that it just "happened" to work out for us. That if it were one more day all hell would have broken loose. But to be honest, Little Voice tells me that I did all that preemptive work. It wasn't a fluke. I planned; I had Plan B and Plan C. In fact, I over-planned. I told about 4 people that I might need to hang out with them because nights might get tough and I'd see how I felt. I knew who to call if I needed someone to be at home if I needed to make a late night run for something.
So it's time to let go of the weird story that I think I can't handle motherhood. Because when I let that hang around, it gets in between K and I. And frankly, it gets in between Papa and I, too. It may not disappear immediately, but I have proof (again) that it's just not true. I can handle motherhood. And just because it gets hard, doesn't mean I can't handle it. And even when I can't ALWAYS handle it, it doesn't mean I can't EVER handle it. I'm an awesome mama. So I'm letting incompetence go....