Barbara Feldman: Maternal Guilt

Maternal Guilt

How perfect do we expect to be? When should we censor the "little voice" inside our heads, and when should we listen?

Saturday morning I felt a pang of maternal guilt bigger than any I've felt in a long time. It was SAT test morning for Matthew. And my son was really prepared. Not only mentally, but he also tried really hard to be prepared physically. He played 90 minutes of tennis on Friday afternoon to clear out his head, and be ready for a good night's sleep. We went for an early dinner at his favorite Japanese restaurant. When the waitress asked for our drink order, Matthew ordered hot tea. I immediately thought about the caffeine, but then immediately answered the voice in my head with the following rebuttal: he's a big boy, one cup of tea isn't much, if I mention it, he'll give me that look, if I mention, I plant the idea in his head, and that will keep him up. So I didn't say anything.

But the next morning when I put a big, healthy breaksfast on the table, and Matthew came into the kitchen, he said,"I drank tea last night. I couldn't fall asleep, and when I did fall asleep, I woke up again." My heart sank. I should have said something. He agreed with me. I should have said something. Grrrhhh....