I'm sure you didn't visit my blog today to see a list of my many insecurities. I gotta be honest, I'm tempted to list as many as I can think of! However, I'll spare you the gory details and just share a picture of two. And by the way, these pictures are NOT of me (I don't think the rules on this photo challenge said that the picture had to be a real one)!
Believe it or not, I'm very insecure about my weight. I think it has gotten worse since my mastectomy and hysterectomy. It's all tied to self esteem....which I've struggled with for a loooong time! Food has just always been a comfort to me during stressful times. I'm 46 years old now and I'm not so sure that I can reverse this. I try so hard to make use of other resources when I'm feeling particularly low or depressed but it always comes back to food. I don't know if it's because of an "addiction" gene that I inherited (wouldn't it be nice to blame someone else!) or just simply the fact that I'm Italian and we Italians LOVE food! Either way, it's a problem that I'm currently working on with a vengeance!
My other insecurity is my parenting skills. What I find interesting is that if Dan and I wanted to adopt children, we would have to go through years of preparation. We would have to provide a home study, financial records, medical records, detailed mental health history and so on. However, when I went to the hospital to deliver Nathan, they just wrapped him in a blanket and said...here ya go! He didn't come with an instruction booklet. No one thought twice about handing him to Dan and I and letting us go...letting us LEAVE the hospital! When we got home, we put him in the bassinet and stared at him. We looked at each other and said, "OK, what do we do now?" The point I'm trying to make is that there is no right way to parent. I think a case can be made that there are several WRONG ways, but the jury is still out on the right way. So what does a mother do? You learn as you go. This leaves SOOO much room for error!
It really hit me the other day that I could be seriously messing with their psyche. Am I filling them with guilt the way my mom did with me? Am I allowing them to grow? Am I encouraging them to explore the world around them? Am I hindering their creativity? Are they going to hate me when they grow up? When they act up at a restaurant or the grocery store, are the other people around us judging me? Well, I don't know the answer to any of those questions but, I do know this.....I fall terribly short in my own expectations. I guess I can only hope that my kids are easier on me than I am on myself and that God sees my heart and my errors and fills in those gaps!