This is a year of change for me.
In 2017 I launched a business (The Volte) with three of the best co-founders you could hope for, a supportive husband and a network of superstar mentors.
We have kicked some serious goals in 2017, but as I reflect on the year that was and look to the exciting year ahead there is one roadblock I do not plan of crossing into the new year. My overwhelming (mainly self-inflicted) mothers’ guilt.
Guilt about forgetting it was Teddy Bear Picnic Day (will this giraffe from the car suffice?).
Guilt about forgetting it was flipping Fancy Hat Day. (Dear God, when did you create all of these days? It is not appreciated.)
Guilt for not baking organic meals at dinnertime.
Guilt for not baking at all. (Received a KitchenAid for my 30th birthday. It is unused. I am now 35.)
Guilt for not laying out ‘invitation to plays’.
Guilt for not being around as much as other mums.
Guilt is such a useless emotion. It’s like worry on steroids with a depressive, anxious edge. It doesn’t change anything, but just makes you feel shit about what you have chosen to do.