Lamb and Frog

Note to Readers: This will be a rant. I will be swearing. It is highly likely that I will be swearing a lot. I will not be pulling punches. If you’re easily offended you may want to skip this one.

Recently, a couple of good friends of mine have been having some angst. One is grappling with having someone (a friend even) tell her that she was “emotionally stunted” because she had made a mindful choice to remain child free. Another has two small children (one toddler, one infant) and is coping with that all-too-common dilemma of trying to find that part of her self-definition that does not include being a wife and a mother. Girlfriends, this one is for you.

The Be All And End All

Having children is a beautiful thing. Can you have a fulfilling life an as adult without them? Absolutely. Personally, I think kids (even my kids) are great, have them if you want them, but if you have any doubts at all about how much you want them, don’t let someone else convince you that you’re making a bad decision. Having children is easy…raising them is harder than hell. Rewarding, but harder than hell. If you think it’s easy, then you are probably fucking it up.

Role Playing

I hate the verb ‘parenting’. I know it’s over there in the categories list, but that’s only because it’s shorter than ‘raising the kids and related fiascos’. My job as a mother is to raise my kids; that’s only part of my job as an adult. With ‘parenting’, on the other hand, you are the job. What you do, all you do, as a grown up is ’parent’ your children. I’m calling bullshit on this. I am not the mom job. I have a set of really high priorities that I do my best to balance: mother, wife, writer, daughter, friend, etc. All are important, which one is most important on any given day is usually determined by who needs me the most. Often that is the kids, and while the kids are little if there’s a priority conflict their needs usually win, but recognizing that other priorities can be equally important at different times is huge if you are trying to be a real grown up and not just playing the ‘parent’ role as set by someone else.

Long-term Thinking

Besides implying that you are the job the term parenting is insidious in its focus on the short term enjoyment of every little moment in your precious little babies’ lives because they’re “only young once.” Awww…”if they could just stay little longer.” (It’s no coincidence that this is an ad slogan, by the way.) Sometimes ‘being in the now’ like this can be a trap. Like when it causes you to lose sight of important, long-term goals that are based on your values. For example, I’ve often heard people say “spending time with my kids is more important to me than having a clean house.” That, my friends, is a fucking cop out. If you don’t want to clean your house, don’t (we all have different cleanliness/clutter thresholds…mine includes the rule that reading materials and yarn are not clutter)…but don’t put it off on spending more ‘quality’ time with your kids…just admit that you’d rather go to the zoo than clean the bathroom. Admitting it does not make you a bad person. On the other hand, in the long term, I want my kids to learn the value of work for work’s sake (what you do won’t always pay, but it’s still worth doing) and to learn to value those things for which they have worked hard and paid good money. One of our family’s most valuable assets is our home. Consequently, I make taking care of it a priority. This is another one of those times where, after careful consideration, the right thing to do is (once again) not the fun thing to do no matter how I try to rationalize otherwise.

My long-term goal for my children (assuming I get them to adulthood alive, which is the ultimate long-term goal) is to have them leave the house and live their own lives as not merely functioning, but productive, members of society. In other words, as much as I love them, I don’t want them to come back. I want them to want to leave. I want them, in all their adolescent and post-adolescent angst, to be absolutely convinced that they can do better for themselves on their own than they can under my roof. As bittersweet as I know it will be, I want them to think of me as that bitchy control freak who always has money for the stuff she wants, but never has quite enough for the stuff they want. I don’t want them to think that the best they ever had it is here. And I don’t want them to think that I am somehow responsible for their entertainment. I want them to be able to handle their downtime without excessive stimulation (chemical, visual, physical, or otherwise). I admit, this line of thinking has some advantages…we are not overscheduled with ‘enriching’ activities around here…but it is a conscious decision based on a long-term goal. (Oh, and speaking of long-term goals, if you’re having and raising kids thinking they will be there for you in your old age you better have one helluva backup plan.)

Mother of the Year – Enough with the Guilt Already

Having kids is a ride on the old anxiety train (hell, why do you think I have a category called ‘House of Insomnia’?). I don’t know anyone, anyone, who thinks she’s getting it absolutely right. If you think you are, then you’re probably fucking it up. Where the hell is all this guilt coming from? Lots of places–our own expectations, the standards set by our own parents (which we are trying to meet, exceed, or not repeat with a vengeance), comparing ourselves to other mothers of similar ages and circumstances, and from the society in which we live. So let’s go over a few important points:

• Of course you love your kids and of course you love your kids enough. Different people have different ways of expressing love…one is not better than the other. Love is love. Just make sure your kids understand how you and your family express love so they know it when they see it (they all know it when they feel it).
• Of course you want your kids to succeed. More importantly, however, is helping them learn to define success on their own terms and accepting that those terms may not be the same as yours.

Helping your kids define themselves as individuals involves introspection, not consumption. Next time you’re feeling guilty about a decision trace the guilt to the source. Who exactly says you should be doing x, y, or z for your child? Some magazine? Some TV ad? The web? A bunch of other parents who have been overconsuming ad-supported ‘parenting tips’? I’m not saying not to sign your kid up for soccer if that’s what you want to do. All I’m saying is don’t feel guilty for not doing it if you don’t want to or can’t afford it because it’s not soccer lovers that have you convinced it’s good for your kid, it’s people selling cleats, uniforms, pictures, folding chairs with built-in umbrellas, coolers, and individually wrapped snacks and drinks. Seventy percent of America’s GDP is based on consumer spending…people are paid a lot of money to exploit your mom guilt for their own profit. Don’t let them.

Don’t Make Me Kick Your Ass Off That High Horse, Lady Madonna

So if you’re a mother reading this and saying “Man, what a bitch, her poor kids must have a rough life.” Fuck you. They don’t. They have privileges and opportunities I (and Bill, for that matter) never had until I started making my own money. Things like not having to worry about how much meat costs (a real worry for my single mom). Things like living in a house in a neighborhood where there are other kids to play with and they can play outside on the street in relative safety. These are blessings I have that my mom did not because she had to work a full-time job just to meet our basic needs (which did not include cell phones, internet, cable TV, movie days, organized sports, the list could go on forever) and a part-time job to work our way out of the projects (and into a single-wide, and then a double-wide, trailer…I didn’t live in a house until I moved in with Bill). Sure, my kids go without some stuff, but we have all the basics and more and I’m here when my kids need me. They are blessed to have a mom who was blessed to be able to make the choice to work part time so she can attend parties, volunteer at the school, chaperone field trips, bake cookies, pick them up from school, and stay home with them when they’re sick .

And if you’re thinking bad shit about my mom because she chose to get a divorce and raise me basically on her own (with help from her family and some financial help from my dad) fuck you too. You don’t have all the facts and, for that matter, neither do I, but even with my limited set of facts, I know she made the right decision for both of us given the circumstances.  My mom is one helluva smart woman and I will shove a pencil in your upturned nose if you disrespect her in any way. She is fucking SuperMom. She, like every other mother I know, made (and continues to make) the best choices she could given the resources available to her at the time.

Note to Readers: My parents got divorced when I was two and back together when I was sixteen. They love each other dearly and remain together (unmarried, which is what works for them) to this day.

So here’s an idea for all of us muthas…how about we leave the judgements to God (or the universe at large) and just do the best we can for our kids with what we have? We’ll stop judging ourselves against the media-sponsored moms and we’ll stop judging the other moms by our standards. We’ll give every mom we see the benefit of the doubt that she’s doing the best she can for her kids at that moment…it may not be the best she can do, but it’s the best she can do right now. We’ll lay the hell off.

And as long as we’re laying off, let’s lay off those women in their 30s and 40s who are child free (or even those who have only one child) either by choice or not. Their decisions and their bodies are none of our business and it’s goddamned obnoxious to presume that their lives are somehow less fulfilling than ours when we haven’t walked one fucking foot, let alone a whole mile, in their moccasins.

A Final Thought for My Friends (and any readers who are still with me)

In case it isn’t evident, I’m not saying I’m perfect, that I always handle things well, that I’m a great mom, that I know it all (not by a long shot). Not only has it taken me years to sort this stuff out (it’s kind of like laundry, there always seems to be more for the sorting), it took one extremely long, dark night of the soul to get to where I am today (out of the abyss and hanging on for dear life). To get to this point, I had to sink down really, really low and I hope you two (and anyone else who may be seeing herself in this post) never find yourselves way down there. But if you do, realize that although the toe and finger holds you need to find your way out of the dark may be different from those I used, I’m always willing to reach back into the abyss to help you find them and find your way out. Love is not a zero sum game.