I had an interesting experience on my sister's recent visit - carrying on most of my regular mom duties and regulations with an audience, and one that is not afraid to comment. Being a mother, you can get trapped in your own head and not even think about what you are doing or why you are doing it, but occasionally you hear a voice from the outside that makes you pause and reconsider.
For example, I was out with K, shopping for her wedding suit, and had to call to confirm successful drop off of my children, by the babysitter, at a playdate. Unfortunately, that mother had been running late dropping her own son off at camp, and my kids were waiting in the driveway upon her arrival. This produced many apologies on her end and much, oh-my-God-don't-worry-about-its from me. Upon hanging up, K observed, "You and the moms you hang out with are really good at helping assuage each other's maternal guilt." To which I screeched, "Guilt??? What guilt?" For someone who doesn't have kids, K is quite the mothering sage - she is also the one who asked when I was contemplating whether or not to have ann epidural with Little Man, "Would you think I was a better person if I had a route canal with no Novocaine?" - and this observation was more food for thought.
She's right. At least in my personal experience, guilt, and fierce, visceral love (in order of frequency) are pretty much the two strongest emotions associated with motherhood. We might not see it as such, but guilt is a strong motivator when it comes to mothering. Sure, I love reading to my children, but I do it, not only so they develop into strong readers, but because I am filled with self-loathing if I don't. I hate checking their teeth after they brush at night, since I'm so tired I barely have time to brush my own, but the guilt I felt after #1 had her first cavity has turned me into an amateur dental hygienist.
This negative motivation is part of the problem with modern motherhood. There are endless lists of things we "should" be doing, other than keeping our kids alive, fed and clothed, that we can sit up at night berating ourselves over when we fall short. Last night, I was up for an hour and half, despite my Bronx Zoo-induced exhaustion*, worrying that my kids only impression of me from the day was of a sweaty, camel-smelling mother hissing, "Don't touch the glass!" or "Stop complaining, I know it's hot!", instead of a calm presence explaining different things about the animals and habitats were were seeing. I, unfortunately, let the guilt expand to suck all the oxygen out of the room, and began to obsess over Little Man not counting in an itemized way, #2's lack of interest in learning to ride a bike and #1's trouble making connections in her writing according to her last report card and the fact I had done nothing to improve that over the summer thus far. As a mother, it can become disheartening, when you perceive all you are doing is stopping bad things from happening. Sure, we can blame mothers themselves, since it is a state of mind, thinking this way. Why not think of doing a craft with your children as a way to expand their creative horizons instead of something that has to be done? But it's difficult to do that when all you read in the parenting rags how stunted they will be if not given a creative outlet. I blame the media, and myself for being affected by it. And, yes, I have stopped reading those publications, you really can't escape the fact the overriding message out there is if your kid winds up fucked up, it's because of something you did or did not do. Only you can prevent your children from growing up to be math-phobic, non-bike-riding, bad writers.
There is a parenting philosophy that we really have very little real effect on how our children turn out outside of their physical health and basic emotional well-being, that they will be who they will be regardless of what we do. I, for one, would like to start a whole magazine based on this philosophy, but I'm not sure it would sell ( with articles such as "Baby Einstein? Sponge Bob? It's all good!"). Because, hand in hand, with the idea that we can consider ourselves no longer responsible for anything "wrong" with our kids, is giving up any claim on anything they do "right" and I'm not sure I'm ready to do that. Sometimes the only thing that gets me back to sleep at night are thoughts like she might not be able to ride a bike, but at least #2 can read.
*Gotta keep up with the summer field trip schedule. I sort of forgot that all of the indoor exhibits are not air-conditioned. The Monkey House smells awesome on a 95 degree day. Also, awesome? Riding a camel with a forty pound toddler who is sweating like an NFL lineman during pre-season training.
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