Guilt-Ridden Mommy Syndrome (GRM-S) may not have a diagnosis but I have it. - by Karen Cook

Guilt-Ridden Mommy Syndrome (GRM-S) may not have a diagnosis in the latest American Psychological Society’s Diagnostic Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV-TR), but anyone who is a mother, has a mother, or knows a mother, understands intrinsically that this is a real and diagnosable problem that afflicts mothers from the moment they conceive of their children, either figuratively, as in adoption, or literally, as in pregnancy.  There are numerous examples of how the disorder may display itself.  Classic symptoms include: constant need for reassurance from both a partner, as well as medical professionals, erratic behavior, and illogical thoughts. 

Two examples of my pregnancy behavior that both demonstrate these common symptoms and led to my diagnosis are: One day when I was about 10 weeks pregnant with my second son, I ate a Greek salad.  I was about halfway through the salad when I realized that it had feta cheese, a soft cheese that is generally on the top ten list of “Things NOT to eat when you are pregnant”.  Once it dawned on me that I’d ingested a “bad food” I immediately checked the Internet, found that I had committed a “no-no”, then I called my scientist husband in tears.  He tried to reassure me that it was probably fine, but after we hung up, I called my OB/GYN to try and confirm that the feta cheese wouldn’t cause a miscarriage or cause permanent developmental delays to my baby.  Both my husband and OB/GYN launched into extensive scientific explanations that were meant to allay my fears.  However, since I’m still pregnant, I’m still not sure what the long-term effects of this feta will be on my boy’s developmental progress.  Another example of guilty mom behavior, is when, during my first pregnancy, I read What to Expect When You’re Expecting for the first time.  After reading the book’s numerous and detailed descriptions of developmental and genetic disorders that may or may not be preventable, I hurled the book against the wall in horror.  Then, sobbing, I retrieved the book from the floor, and had overwhelming feelings of guilt about the whole episode because a) I hadn’t gotten a full genetic profile completed prior to becoming pregnant so b) I was unfit to be a mother.  Sigh.

I’ve had GRM-S for over 5 years now, and, despite my diagnosis, I have a vibrant, intelligent 4-year old boy and another baby on the way.  In these four+ years since my son’s birth, I’ve had numerous moments of mommy guilt, including and not limited to: taking my son to a dog park as an infant (BAD idea), feeding him salmon after forgetting (for the third time) that it makes him vomit, and laughing myself to tears when he was chanting “sh*t” in the car, and getting indignant because “MOM, I didn’t say “shut it” (a “bad” word in our house).  There are so many little moments like this that demonstrate my guilty mom syndrome, but none of them can begin to compare to the guilt I feel over my latest failing: that to apply to private school for my son. 

A little background: I live in New York City.  Specifically in an area of the Bronx called Riverdale.  If I want to project a certain “je ne se quois” to people, I’ll tell them I live in the Bronx – imagine for a moment the images that conjures in your mind, from HBO’s captivating show about prostitution in Hunt’s Point, to Jonathon Kozol’s descriptions of children who attend school in the poorest congressional district in the country in his book Amazing Grace: The Lives of Children and the Conscience of a Nation.  Well, Riverdale isn’t like that.  In fact, Riverdale is a beautiful, upper-class area best known for its community feel, green space, large estates, and “The Hill Schools”, a trio of world-renowned private schools.  Also, I am a New York City public school teacher at a well-regarded gifted and talented school, but it is not in my district, so my son cannot attend (another reason to feel guilty). 

Despite the fact that New York City, and Riverdale in particular, has some excellent public schools, the underlying message from a certain sub-population of parents (of which I am admittedly on the fringe) is that if you care at all about your dear child, you will not leave him/her to the wild wastelands of public school.  In fact, you are a negligent parent if you don’t plan your child’s educational future from the time that s/he is a nascent two-and-a half year-old and entering into either nursery or preschool.   Discussions about private school have a language all their own and key players in the industry are iconic; some even sporting one-name monikers, and being featured in articles in the New York Times, and New York Magazine.  There is a multi-million dollar industry surrounding the Kindergarten application process that includes websites, preparation programs for private school tests, private school consultants who help guide parents through the process, and people who offer interviewing skills instruction for toddlers. 

The reason for all of this is that in New York City, Kindergarten isn’t just Kindergarten, it is the portal to ivy-league colleges, the promise of social and business connections you and your child will make with influential and important individuals, and, frankly, many parent’s expectation for their child’s successful future.  For many parents here, hyper-competitiveness, combined with anxiety about where to send their children to pre-K leads them into spending the equivalent of out-of-state college tuition for a 3 half-day a week program.  The benefit of spending up to $30,000.00 a year for about 10 hours of preschool instruction, or, about $300 per hour, is that your child’s preschool director may help guide your family through the time-consuming, expensive, and fearsome process of applying to private schools (however, there is no guarantee, as I have a dear friend who paid similar tuition, only to be told by his preschool director that she didn’t think his daughter would thrive in a private school environment, and left them hanging in their time of need). 

As a mom, I have missed the proverbial Kindergarten boat for my son.  My initial failure was when I placed him in a local extended day pre-K.  The philosophical focus at this neighborhood school is on building a community spirit with the children and attending to their emotional and social growth, rather than their academic growth.  Also a part of my guilt is that the tuition at this school is quite reasonable, and the parents of children in my son’s class are also working parents.   An example of how this school responds to parental Kindergarten anxiety is that when I initially approached the director regarding Kindergarten placement for my three-year-old, she explained that since the application process wouldn’t start until the end of the next academic year.  She explained that she was more focused on how to support his transition between daily activities and that, although he could read and write, he was struggling with playing productively with his peers.  Of course this conversation led to more guilty mommy feelings, like: “if only I were at home with him he wouldn’t struggle with anything”, or “I should have sent him to a preschool that would challenge him academically”, etc.  

Another layer of complexity adding to my guilt pile is that there are a few parents of children at our preschool who teach at private schools.  In birthday party, pick-up, and playground discussions, it has simultaneously come out that these parents can’t conceive of their children attending Kindergarten anywhere besides one of these schools, despite the fact that a) private schools often don’t cover tuition for their staff anymore, so they would be responsible for at least a portion of up to $40,000 in tuition and fees, depending on their financial aid package, b) many of the teachers admit that their students, and the parents of their students are entitled, and difficult to manage and c) they want their children in a diverse school setting.

My husband and I want what’s best for our son.  We love him deeply and irrationally.  Last year, when he had barely turned four, we started the conversation about where we were going to place him for Kindergarten.  I’ll admit, we contacted a few private schools and got their brochures.  The facilities at these institutions are incredible, the grounds impeccable, and the atmosphere is enviable.  However, to even start the process, we would need to invest about $1500.00 to get the required tests and pay the application fees.  We would need to reschedule work and weekend commitments to be “interviewed” by the schools.  Then, if my son were accepted, we would have to come up with tuition and fees for him to attend.  As we started to explore our options, it became apparent to us that our values do not align with those of the people who dedicate this much time and energy to their child’s Kindergarten placement.   We just weren’t willing to sacrifice our sanity and invest thousands of dollars for the mere possibility that our child could be accepted into a school where we would then be obligated to raid his college fund in order for him to have the chance to have a grassy playground area, rather than a prison-style yard, a smaller class-size, and a meeting-area rug that gets vacuumed more than two times a week. 

So here we are, on the cusp of a new year, the year when my first-born enters Kindergarten.  We do have some choices, and are touring our local public and charter schools to find the best match for our son.  I can’t fully squash my neurotic guilty mommy syndrome tendencies, thus the $200 dollar expenditure on test-preparation books for the New York City gifted and talented program, numerous phone calls and hours of conversations with public school parent coordinators, and at least half-a-dozen morning appointments that I scheduled for my husband so that he could tour the schools that we are interested in.  And there is the fact that we are pre-registering my son in at least four Kindergarten programs to provide ourselves a little opportunity for choice. 

To try and keep my guilty feelings at bay, I need only turn to my emotional compasses: my husband and my son.  My husband maintains that Kindergarten is not a big deal, in fact, it’s not even mandatory in New York State and that our son’s future success as a productive member or our society does not hinge on his acceptance into the “right” Kindergarten.  As for my son, he enjoys the “homework puzzles” I do with him in preparation for the gifted and talented test, and seems okay with my line that we are looking at different Kindergartens to see which one will be best for him.  The bottom line for my four-year-old isn’t the quality of the facilities, or the children that will be his potential classmates.  For him, riding a yellow school bus is the rite of passage that will distinguish him as a “real Kindergartener”.   As for me, I’ve resolved that if, for some reason, his Kindergarten year is unsatisfactory, we will sell our apartment, and move to a town where I know that this guilty mommy can fulfill her son’s “heart’s greatest desire,” a daily ride on a yellow school bus.