Photo Gallery | 185850 Views | May 06,2019
Apr 6 , 2025
By Kidist Yidnekachew
It's funny how life throws your pre-baby notions right out the window. I vividly remember joking with a friend, back in my carefree days, about how toddlers don’t need a huge wardrobe for those first three years. We reasoned, rather naively, that mothers deserved the bulk of retail therapy as a reward for the monumental task of birthing and raising tiny, albeit adorable, energy vampires. We even encouraged each other not to "let ourselves go."
For a while, I made an effort to maintain some semblance of my pre-motherhood self, I dressed presentably, even if new clothes for myself weren’t a priority. But I always made sure the kids were clothed, despite my initial stance.
Somewhere along the journey, my focus shifted entirely. Like a compass needle drawn by a magnetic force, everything pointed toward my children. This became especially true when comments started trickling in; a casual remark about outgrown clothes, a concerned observation about weight loss. These well-meaning remarks from close family members became my internal barometer, guiding my efforts to "make things better."
As parents, we see our children every day, making it easy to miss subtle changes. A growth spurt might go unnoticed, a slight fluctuation in weight overlooked. But others, with a fresh perspective, pick up on these things.
My son, like many toddlers, is navigating the wonderful world of picky eating. My patience for mealtime battles isn’t always my strongest suit. My husband tries to ensure he eats, but as the primary menu planner, the responsibility of making those choices often falls on me. Still, when someone comments that he looks thin, a wave of worry washes over me. Is he eating enough? Given his past struggle with anaemia, that fear lingers, whispering doubts about whether I’m doing enough.
Parenting is a relentless juggling act – work, hobbies, even the occasional scroll through social media – all competing for our time. Carving out dedicated, uninterrupted time for our kids every single day can feel like a Herculean task. My husband and I are hands-on. Yet that gnawing sense of parental guilt, particularly that intense pang of mother’s guilt persists, whispering that we could always do more.
That feeling deepens when I lose my temper when their playful curiosity tips into reckless adventure, and I have to raise my voice. The sight of their little faces crumpling in sadness delivers an instant punch to the gut. It is these moments that make you question your worthiness as a parent.
Even the simplest acts of self-care come with a mental checklist of obligations. Thinking about getting my hair done or buying a new moisturiser is immediately followed by, "Do the kids need shampoo or lotion first?" I prioritise my daughter’s long, tangle-prone hair, ensuring it is braided and neat, while my own remains an afterthought.
Even something as basic as taking a shower takes a backseat. If my kids are happily covered in mud after an afternoon of play, my first instinct is to bathe them before considering my hygiene. The thought of showering while they're still caked in dirt brings on a wave of guilt – the selfish mother who prioritises her comfort over her children's hygiene
Then there’s the constant negotiation of expectations. I naturally speak to my children in Amharic; it feels intuitive and effortless. Yet, well-meaning relatives encourage me to speak English, worried they might lag behind. Being half-Ethiopian adds another layer of complexity, reinforcing the expectation that they should be fluent in English. When I do try, and they don’t understand, guilt creeps in. Am I not doing enough to help them? Are my choices somehow holding them back?
Motherhood is an intricate balancing act, an endless negotiation between personal needs and the relentless demands of raising children. Self-care often takes a backseat, drowned out by the all-consuming task of ensuring the little ones are healthy, happy, and thriving. External comments, though well-intentioned, amplify the ever-present hum of parental guilt, particularly for mothers who carry a disproportionate share of the emotional and practical load. From navigating picky eating to making countless sacrifices, motherhood is a journey of adaptation, self-doubt, and overwhelming love. And despite the challenges, somehow, it remains the most worthwhile journey of all.
PUBLISHED ON
Apr 06, 2025 [ VOL
26 , NO
1301]
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