Every mom has some form of mom guilt. We constantly tell ourselves how we are being bad at mothering. How we can’t keep up with laundry, I think Everett had to much screen time today, why can’t I cook like the Pioneer Woman. We then compare ourselves to other moms. That mom has got it together. Her kids are always clean. Do they get to play in the dirt at all? How can she arrive early for everything? Her hair is always perfect? Her house is so organized? Her house is so cute and decorated? This is why I refuse to go on Pinterest. I get grand ideas on my own that usually never turn out the way I think they are going to turn out. I don’t need to add to my already crazy ideas or give myself false hope of being extra crafty. I am fully capable of failing in that avenue on my own. The mom guilt I have is only what other fellow dairymoms can relate to.
I remember when Everett was a toddler and I was really struggling with mom guilt. No matter what I did I felt like I was failing him and my husband. My mom group had no idea what I was going through, “Just go in the house, Nate can finish.” “Just don’t milk the cows tonight.” (Yes, I have been told this.) My mom guilt isn’t a worry about did Everett wash is hands before supper but some days supper consists of snacks in the barn. Dairymom guilt is when you are washing up milkers and your toddler is having a tantrum. Dairymom guilt is when your husband calls he just ran out of seed, it is midnight and all he has left is a about an hour left of planting and you know rain is in the forecast the next couple of days, you just got your tikes bathed, put to bed and you yourself just got out of the shower after finishing milking. What do you do? Dairymoms load up their littles and go to the field with out a second guess. I have gotten better at trying not to let dairy mom guilt take over my thoughts. There are times when they pop into my mind but then I remind myself not to feel guilt. I am sure there would be a tantrum over color crayons in the house instead of playing in the manure in the barn. A dear wise friend of mine who raised 4 boys, told me “You and only you God chose to be Everett’s mom.” These simple words get me through the Dairymom guilt.
Evening milking May 1st 2015
Raising a Farmer 
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