Recently I decided to make my family my life’s work. Nothing else matters to me as much. Period. So why is it that I spend so much time resenting the obligations?
I always knew I wanted to have kids. And long before I had them, I would often daydream about the joy in teaching them things, pondering different approaches to the same topic (because kids learn differently). Today, I have two beautiful sons, and it truly is an honor to be a part of their development.
Here’s the BUT: I find that parenting routinely demands more of me than I think I can bear. Life in my house feels like being under siege. I can’t walk from one end of the room to the other without tripping over the kids’ strewn debris, and it gets a lot harder with a screaming toddler clutching onto my legs and the dog underfoot. Duncan almost always has a potty emergency right after I’ve started cooking dinner, but if I don’t take time to put all the food away, the pets snatch it off the counter. And sometimes I just have to let Cooper empty all my face powder onto the floor while I take a shower, because it has been…that…long since I had the opportunity.
Lately I’ve been “losing it” with the kids more often that I want to admit. I can only subvert my own needs for so long before I end up screaming, “You don’t care what Mommy wants! Mommy has needs too!” right into their blank little faces, because of course they are too young to understand that. One day I was desperately trying to get some work done, and Duncan didn’t feel like playing by himself. He bugged me, nagged me and provoked me until I yelled at him, “If you don’t let Mommy work, they are going to take our house away! Do you want that?”
Painful guilt rushed into my heart in the wake of those words, and I apologized to Duncan for yelling at him. I told him that he didn’t have to worry about the house, and that he would always have a place to live. Then one day, several weeks later, we were having a conversation about how much fun it is to save Box Tops for his school. He said, “Yes! We save them so they don’t take our house away.”
Ouch. I can’t ever forget how quickly a child will internalize a message. Even though he was wrong about the reason for Box Tops, I knew he was still thinking about the mysterious “they” who might take our home…and wanting to do what he could to help, bless his little heart.
I worry that I might not be strong enough to truly do right by my kids. The sacrifice that motherhood demands is total surrender of the righteous indignation that normally comes along with being disrespected, disregarded, and disgusted by another person. You have to keep reminding yourself that even though your needs really don’t matter to anyone, at least for now, the job you do DOES. And you have to remind yourself because the kids won’t realize it until they are well into adulthood themselves.
Lately I’ve been thinking about the conventional wisdom for girls during my formative years. In the age of Sassy magazine, I grew up believing that a strong sense of self was the first step toward being in a healthy relationship. In college and on into my early career, I felt sure that a commitment to personal growth could only help prepare me for the challenges of parenthood. I made mistakes that are all mine along the way. But now I can’t help but wonder if all that self-building has made it harder for me to surrender to motherhood. Perhaps it would be easier if I had grown up with the expectation that subverting myself is actually the higher calling? I have experienced moments of Zen-like parenting when I just let myself go and sing a silly song about putting on pants, really commit to it. And then try counting down from 10. And then threaten to throw the TV away.
In any case, I’m hoping that I am just too close to the picture right now to see that the end of this stage in parenting is out there. I know it never gets easier, per se, but I am so looking forward to the next part, where our bond is more elastic. The being apart and coming back together, the “how was your day?” stuff—I love it.
Moms—how do we do it gracefully? I want to hear from you.
Dads—I think you deserve a whole separate post singing your praises, whether you work or stay home. It’s on my list.
I don’t actually get to comment since I don’t have children (yet) so I’ll just tell you that you are amazing and your children will one day see that.
I hope my ranting doesn’t discourage you, as you and AJ prepare to welcome a child of your own. Once the rush of angry feelings passes, you totally remember that it’s all worth it!
I have lots of thoughts about this post. Here are a few:
It’s probably not EITHER self-building OR surrendering to motherhood. I think it’s BOTH/AND. Somehow you have to find a way to keep your personal aura fluffed enough to keep you going while simultaneously having your lifelight sucked out through your nostrils by howling dervishes.
Kids don’t get long-term memory until about age 4. You probably should stop telling Duncan he will be a homeless waif, but you can feel free to shriek at Cooper for a good 18 more months!
There is absolutely no one on this Earth I’d rather entrust my precious grandsons to. No one.
We need to talk! I’ve been there ( for 15 years) and now my kids are grown. So I can give you a perspective from the other end of the tunnel. It’s too complex to put into a few sentences. Hang in there!
Nisa, yes, I’d love to talk with you. If you’re willing to be on camera, it’d be great if I could film our conversation for use in my web series. But just one-on-one is great too. I can use all the help I can get.
Don’t feel too guilty. I’ve done my share of yelling that “nobody cares about Mommy!” And then regretted it as soon as it came out of my mouth (over and over again). I think at some point it gets easier (possibly when they reach that stage where they realize the world doesn’t revolve around them) and if we just keep loving and teaching them. . . well, maybe they’ll understand that Mommy’s can have temper-tantrums, too!
But, you see, children cannot “care about Mommy” as they are totally egocentric and can’t understand what you are doing. You need to understand that you are, in effect, your child’s favorite toy–they want to have all of your attention all of the time. You cannot blame them because they don’t understand that your attention MUST be otherwise engaged. When you need to be insulated from them to accomplish an important task, you have to find a way to accomplish that separation–50 years ago we called such things playpens which I understand is now anathema in child care circles. But it worked on many levels–child safety, mother relief, calming the child, etc. We made sure that the child had access to activities appropriate to the age and interests of the child–often things that were only available during the time of separation. We ignored the fretting of the child in the first few times of separation as they learned that we would always come back and engage with them again. For one of my children, the separation had to be complete, using another room. For the other three, the separation could be in the same room with me while my attention was otherwise engaged. But the first step is NOT to feel guilty because they cry. You are actually teaching your child to be self-sufficient in entertainment, interests, etc. Very often, through their time with you, you will be doing things for their own good that will make them cry or explode with anger. As my daughter once said to me, “Listen, it’s my JOB to make them cry sometimes.”
Thanks; I appreciate your feedback!
Here’s what I found interesting — that notion that “all that self-building” could make it difficult to surrender to motherhood. I’ve been nurturing the opposite view for about 40 years — that I had a hard time giving myself to my children because I didn’t have “self-building” — meaning that i didn’t have a time in my life when I was focused on ME. So what does this all boil down to? That all (or at least most) mothers do these things they wish they wouldn’t do and all (or at least most) kids come through it (and grow up to write blogs lamenting their frailties and rejoicing in their successes. I loved this blog entry and will be passing it on to my daughter and others. And I especially loved your Mother’s response. What better?
Laura Kadwell (friend of Savannagh’s)
I’ve been there Cedar. And though it may sound trite, I have to say this: they grow
up fast. In just a few years your head will be spinning and you will be missing these years.
In the relative scene of things, your children are yours for a very short time, and they are
in the pre-school years an even shorter time. After they are both in middle school, (and almost ignore the fact that you exist) you will have years and years, like 40 years probably, to focus
on YOU. I hope that helps, or at least put things in perspective.
Boy do I agree with Wendy! That being said, carve out some time to do things you want to do for yourself, even if it’s limited time. There is nothing worse than feeling like a martyr, and your family won’t appreciate it if you are. Believe it or not, they will appreciate all you do for them more if you also do things for yourself.