The difference between motherhood and parenthood

Today, I learned what is the difference between motherhood and parenthood. I wasn't even aware that there was a difference, probably because one is so close to the other. Also, I have been a mother as long as I have been a parent.

As a mother, my role is to love, nurture, dry tears, encourage and support them. As a parent, my role is to educate, show the difference between right and wrong and to be a teacher to my children. For me, those two roles are so close to each other, like a soft high quality woven cotton,  that I can hardly differentiate them.

Let me explain : I asked E, my daughter, to clean the bathroom and she did it. The problem is that she missed so many spots... she cut corners, forgot the light fixtures, didn't clean behind the toilet and she also didn't empty the basket. I assumed that she knew what I wanted, how I wanted it done but I was wrong.

The problem is that I never showed her how to clean the bathroom nor have I shared my expectations of her with her. I haven't done my parenting job. I'm not going to lose sleep over it. It's just one of many lessons that comes with being a mom.

How come I could have miss the difference between the two? I feel so dumb that it took so long for me to see it!

But now I know, and with that knowledge, I am going, like now, to show E how to clean that damn bathroom.

An Important Lesson

Last night, Darth Vader (my dear husband) and I decided that we needed a new coffee maker (and I kind of agree, since I am a coffee-hoolic). So, while G was in a good mood, we left him in his big sister's capable hands. Before we left, I showed E how to hold G when he was crying and I reminded her that sometimes, a baby cries because... a baby cries... and not to let it distress her.

So I left, confident that things would be fine.

Oh my, was I wrong. We left E with G for a total of 1:30 and when we opened the door, E quickly dropped G in my arms and started to cry. To sob, actually. I felt horrible when she started to tell me that he cried non-stop and that she tried everything to calm him down. Diaper change, tried to feed him, to rock him, to bounce him... nothing worked.

I think that she felt as if it was her fault if he was like that. Or that she felt guilty that she wasn't able to make him stop crying.

But the truth is that G was having a bad day. The kind of bad day that makes you re-consider motherhood.

And as tired as I am right now, I can say that there is a little part of me that is glad that G was having a bad day yesterday, because E saw that even me, the Mother, couldn't get him to stop or to sleep.

Yeah, I am a strange mom. Not because I found comfort in my baby's cries, but because E was able to see her baby brother cry from 5:30pm up until...1:43am (yes, I noted the time) and there is nothing I did that helped him. My daughter learned an important lesson yesterday. Baby cries because baby cries.

That's it. That's all.