Sometimes I wish I were a mom in the 1800s

By today's standards, there are 1 million ways you can screw up your kid. Maybe you didn't read to them early enough. Maybe you didn't buy the right developmental toys or you let them watch TV, or you let them sleep in your bed, or let your little boy play with your heels. Maybe you did all of these things, and your child is fine.

My friend Katie is a wonderful mom. She reads to her 10 month old, she makes his food with her own ingredients, and she has breastfed him since day one, and will do so until he is at least 1. She reads the books and knows what to look for in milestones. And it works - he's practically walking already and a delightful child.

I don't do those things. Sometimes I pick her up from daycare, spend an hour with her and then drug her with gas drops, a soothie and a swing and pray she falls asleep because I'm exhausted from my day. I probably won't make her food. I barely have the energy to preheat the oven some nights for a frozen pizza, so the thought of opening a jar sounds great to me. She doesn't have any toys yet, because she's 3 1/2 months old and totally fascinated by her own feet.

Am I screwing her up forever? I doubt it. I think the developments in child studies have really improved everything, but honestly, I don't think all of it is necessary. My husband didn't have all of these things, and he's physically, emotionally, and educationally exceptional. He has perfect vision, and I'm sure he was plopped in front of sesame street a time or two in his life. He is even tempered, and I'm sure there was no book on how to teach your child feelings when he was growing up. He is very, very smart - the kind of smart that is really annoying (to me, who struggled with school, and was an average student in most subjects), and I'm sure there were nights when his mom was just too tired to read to him.

My point is, maybe my daughter won't work for NASA (and maybe she will), but I have no doubt that I'm doing all of the really important "right" things for her. She is fed, she is clothed and sheltered, she is loved. I give her gratuitous amounts of kisses in the morning, and I sing to her because it makes her smile. I change her diapers, and I hold her close when she is crying.

I think I'm doing alright, but the pressure to do all of the right things can be so overwhelming. We'll just have to see how it goes. I probably won't know for another 16 years if how I'm treating her now has affected her forever, and even then I'll likely blow if off to teenage hormones.

Happy Thursday everyone!

Love,
Dominique