I just finished reading a book that was so emotionally hard to read, especially for fiction. It was about a man who couldn't find work and found himself in a desperate situation in order to keep himself and his 4-year old daughter fed and with a roof over their heads.
I find the responsibility of being a parent so daunting. There are those happy-go-lucky parent types who are so incredibly chill about everything...and then there's me. I worry about the 1,287 ways I'm going to screw up my daughter. (Cue hyperventilation into a paper bag)
My daughter had her 4-year check-up last week. She's not quite 30 lbs without her clothes on. 10th percentile for weight. Then the doctor hit me with the news that her height ... sucks. She should be tall. My husband's taller than average. I'm slightly taller than average. Tall + slightly tall should equal more than 20th percentile for height. He doesn't think she's getting enough nutrients. As I've said her whole life, she doesn't eat much. We offer food; she just doesn't eat it. Now I am obsessed that I'm stunting my child's growth because I can't get her to eat. When other parents list the 20 things their kid ate that day and my kid has eaten 400 calories total, I get even more discouraged. I suck as a mother; I can't even feed my kid enough to keep her healthy. (Cue even more hyperventilation)
I can't believe this book even gave more angst on top of the angst I already have, as described above. The new angst is about myself as a provider. I sat back and thought more about this. As I've said on here before, I couldn't be a stay-at-home mom. It's just not me. My domestic skills are rather lackluster, I'm not very patient, I need more of an identity than the identity I have as a mother for my own sanity. BUT, upon reflection, these might be excuses for the bigger issue. The bigger issue might be that I would feel so vulnerable as a stay-at-home parent. I wouldn't have up-to-date job skills and would fall further behind the rest of the workforce in skills. I would be relying on my husband for so, so much. He would bring home ALL the money. I wouldn't bring home any. If he wanted to leave the marriage, he would have ALL of the money, and I wouldn't have much in the way of resources. I would feel that the only thing I brought to the table would be my domestic skills, which as I said are lacking. I would be incredibly vulnerable.
I need to feel like I bring something to the table. I need to feel like I could be self-sufficient and take care of my daughter. Right now I feel that way. The thought of NOT having self-sufficiency makes me want to hyperventilate. I don't like feeling vulnerable. I don't like feeling weak.
Why? This troubles me because the psychology major in me thinks it's because I feel exactly that: vulnerable and weak.