I had a lovely first Mother’s Day – I even got to sleep in! – but it also reminded me of what big shoes I have to fill.

You see, when I saw the second line on the pregnancy test, I was thrilled. And then I was terrified.

Sure, there were the usual fears – labor and delivery, sleepless nights, keeping a tiny, dependent being alive and thriving. But deeper than that, a greater dread – that I would never be half the mother that my own mother was, and still is.

My mom was only 21 when she had my older brother. I followed a few years later, and my sister a few years after that. She gave up her dream of becoming a teacher to stay at home with us, and we became her pupils. There were frequent trips to the library downtown. Playgroups with the neighborhood kids. Educational games and Lego empires. Sesame Street and Reading Rainbow. And books – always lots of books.

It’s easy to romanticize the past, I know. I’ve probably done that with my childhood. All of my memories seem to have this golden haze. I always, always felt loved.

There were rough times, sure. My parents divorced when I was about 10, and after that, my mom had no choice but to go back to work. We moved into a two-bedroom apartment – my brother in one room, my sister and I in another. Mom slept in the living room – no privacy, no space of her own. But she didn’t let us see her crack.

ADVERTISEMENT

So maybe it’s understandable that Baby Y isn’t quite 11 months, and I already feel like I’m falling short – I can’t help it. I should be reading to him more, I think. I shouldn’t be contemplating weaning him at a year – Mom breastfed well into toddlerhood! Why’d I need an epidural? My mom went natural with all of us. I should stop buying the sugary cereal – we were never allowed to eat this stuff, and I’ll need to set a good example. Why do I want to go back to work? My mom stayed at home and liked it.

Yeah. It’s exhausting.

The funny thing is that mom would be the first to tell you that she doesn’t deserve to be on this pedestal – that she was young and clueless and a product of her time and simply did the best she could. That as long as I’m doing the best I can, I’m an equally good mom, and there’s no use comparing. And above all else, that she would never judge me.

Which just goes to show you, she’s still an awesome mom. And for me, that’s something worth striving for.