Like the Wizard of Oz
October 13, 2008
Somewhere along the way Miles, you learned how to pump on the swing.
I’m not sure when exactly it happened. As is typical of the last child in a big family the small things get lost. Maybe I fail to pay attention.
I never showed you how to swing yourself. That job fell to one of your siblings, I suppose.
Or maybe you just sat there on the swing so long waiting for someone to come and push you that you taught yourself. At least that is what I think when I want to up the ante on my maternal guilt.
Because sometimes the crushing weight of the normal guilt I carry isn’t enough. The feeling that doing it all is a lot of smoke and mirrors. Pull back the curtain and it would be obvious that none of it is being done very well.
*****
I watched the sunrise through my bedroom window this morning with my two feverish babies draped over and around me, effectively pinning me to the bed. They took turns coughing, their sleep fitful and fleeting. I rubbed their backs and kissed their sweaty little heads.
In my head I was running through the list of all the things I had to do for the day. The list is long, some of the things are from last week that didn’t get done. Oh heck, let’s be honest some of the things are still on the list from last month. Sick kids hanging off of me were not a part of the plan. I try not to be annoyed. Try.
We finally got out of bed after watching the squirrels in the trees, something we do every morning. This morning my shoulders and back ache from lying in one position with them on top of me.
I am sitting here now working, well RIGHT NOW I am typing this. My daughter is drawing pictures at the table next to me, narrating everything. I am half listening. Every so often I pause and make non-committal remarks. “Ohhhh, lovely.” “That is great!” “Excellent.”
My son is sitting on my lap, his head buried in my chest, arms wrapped around my body. His hands are stroking my hair which hangs in braid down my back. My yoga pants are stained with paint. The tank top I am wearing is fraying at the hem. No bra, no make-up except for whatever is left from yesterday. My second cup of coffee is growing cold next to me.
My life is nothing but glamorous.
We are rocking back and forth. Rocking my sick child while typing - I am torn as to whether this is a high point or low point in multi-tasking. I tend to think the latter.
Will he remember that I rocked him? Or will he remember that I was always typing, not fully present. Will he remember the smoke and mirrors or the reality behind the curtain?
I think of a conversation that I had with a friend recently. How middle class mothers have taken to manufacturing things to feel guilty about. Our children are fed, clothed, have all the things that money can buy for them. They are safe and loved. Our days aren’t spent toiling away at some sort of horrible job. We have choices. Choices our grandmothers didn’t have. Something that is both a blessing and a curse.
We don’t have many valid worries and so we manufacture them. We worry about plastic water bottles, excessive high fructose corn syrup consumption, toys made in China, their fragile little psyches. And crafts… we should be doing more goddamn crafts. At least that is what all those parenting magazines tell us. We worry about being perfect. When probably, hopefully, in the end none of it is really going to matter.
At least that is what I am telling myself this morning.
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Chris–I know the feeling. I worry about those little things too (plastic water bottles, China-made toys) and yet somehow that never translates into feeling like I am the mother I think I should be. My kids are happy, healthy and provided for very well. You’d think that would sink into my brain eventually! Still, I have frequent bouts of self-imposed guilt and wonder how on earth my kids will make it to adulthood with such a neglectful mother…
October 13th, 2008 at 9:18 amI think it’s what we ALL have to keep telling ourselves, like a mantra.
October 13th, 2008 at 9:24 amI stopped reading the parenting magazines after my oldest son was about 6 months old. It made me feel like I was doing everything wrong - and I felt worthless as a parent. My kids are fine! We even have good days together … and they are nice kids! (at least that is what everyone tells me).
A good way to put it - Manufacturing worries.
Chris - I only just started reading your blog - you have the patience and perseverence to home school your kids; had the vision and ability to build a great kitchen; are a caring, participating parent going from football games to other aspects of their lives. OF COURSE they’ll remember the yelling, the sighing, the rules, the typing … but even better they’ll remember the rocking, the watching the squirrels, the fact that you are there for them every day.
October 13th, 2008 at 9:42 am(sometimes my kids wish I would NOT be there every day but I’m convinced that eventually that will turn around). They’ll appreciate your humor and the fact that you can laugh at yourself … the questions to ask are why, as a nation, did we create this type of frenzied life style? why do we feel we need to ‘keep up with the Jones’? and why do they even make womens clothes over a size 2 with words across the butt?
I am totally convinced that I will always question whether I am doing things right. I rest assured knowing that our mothers HAD to have the same worries. It’s a vicious cycle I’m afaid.
October 13th, 2008 at 9:45 amI agree with your friend, that is why I don’t worry if we spent the day in our pjs and watched TV until 4pm (Sat). I don’t worry that the kids ate nothing but Cheetos for dinner while a perfectly good wrap laid next to them. I figure one day I will look back and miss the days we sat around in our pjs all day and ate nothing but Cheetos.
I think we all need to give ourselves a break. We are not superwomen and we are not meant to be. Our kids love us for who we are, why can’t we?
October 13th, 2008 at 9:57 amYou are so right on! Thanks for putting it so perfectly!
October 13th, 2008 at 10:00 amBeautiful post. It is the question perpetually repeating in a GOOD mother’s brain - “am I doing enough?” why? because we want the best for our children…oh the guilt if I was a cause of holding one of them back in an area - any area - that would feel awful! Does it help that after 10 years of homeschooling (we started her 2nd grade yr) that my oldest started college this fall at barely 17? I spent 10 years worrying if I was doing enough or teaching her the right things. She is thriving in college! She turned to me last week, with tears in her eyes and said, “mom, thank you for homeschooling me so I have this opportunity that others don’t.” That made those sometimes hard 10 years all worth it! Yes, they will remember the rocking, and the frustration they say in us, but mostly our perseverence to do what we thought was best for them.
October 13th, 2008 at 10:02 amAh, but the Wizard helped each character find the strength that was already inside them. And isn’t that really what we parents are supposed to do, beyond the clothing, food, shelter, and unconditional love and support? The smoke and mirrors are just part of the fun (and sometimes a way to keep control - I myself have an “angry eyes” expression that probably rivals that of the Wizard’s enormous scary green face).
October 13th, 2008 at 10:08 amthis resonated with me on so many levels. thank you.
October 13th, 2008 at 10:12 amOk, you watch the squirrels every morning??? That’s awesome and definitely the thing your kids will remember. I am always surprised by what my kids notice and remember and it’s NEVER the stuff I would pick out.
I also believe they honestly remember the intent behind our actions even if we don’t carry it out as we would like. Yes, we may be annoyed that they climb in our bed at night, but we still let them because we love them too much to not let them. And I think they see that. They see that despite how frustrating it might be for us, we still make the effort because we love them.
Like my daughter told me yesterday, “I love you even when you drive me crazy mom and I know you love me even when I drive you crazy.” That’s all I need to know.
October 13th, 2008 at 10:16 amMy mother frequently says to my sister and me, “See? I guess I wasn’t such a bad mother after all.” The truth is, my sister and I have never thought of her as a bad mother. Sure, she’s got all the flaws any ordinary parent has, but she was not a bad mom. I think she assigned that guilt to herself throughout our childhood, and continues to do so into our adulthood. It’s true that I really only had one parent growing up, and I might not have always had as much as some other kids. I went to daycare. I watched a lot of TV. I drank too much soda. So what? I don’t have negative memories of my childhood, and I’m currently healthy, happy, educated, and gainfully employed.
I couldn’t have really asked for more, but I think my mom hasn’t stopped, even now, asking for more of herself. I’m not sure she realizes that she doesn’t need to prove anything to me or my sister, she just needs to allow herself to believe that she wasn’t such a bad mother after all.
Your kids seem to be happy, healthy, and loved. I’m not a mother myself, but as the child of a mother, it seems to me like all the other stuff is gravy.
October 13th, 2008 at 10:20 ambeautiful.
when I was hemming and hawing about having children, a good friend gave me to chunks of wisdom:
“you’re never going to have enough money, so just go for it.”
“no matter what you do or don’t do, your kids will end up in therapy. just go for it.”
there are days that those lines are the only things that keep me afloat.
xoxo
October 13th, 2008 at 10:24 amsteph
First, burn all the parenting magazines.
Reading Angela’s Ashes a number of years ago released me from a lot of the mothering guilt I tended to feel. “Hey!” I thought. “My kids are well-fed, well sheltered, and basically clothed. All the rest is just icing.”
October 13th, 2008 at 10:36 amAs I told my sister during her pregnancy:
Stop reading those magazines. They’ll make you crazy.
Everything is going to be fine. You know why? Because it HAS to be.
October 13th, 2008 at 10:48 amEverytime I feel bad about my parenting, I read Farmer Boy or The Great Brain or A Tree Grows in Brooklyn or A Secret Garden. Then I feel better.
October 13th, 2008 at 10:58 amI’m glad that I’m not the only one who feels annoyed about how my time is affected by having sick kids. I too have had coughing sick kids for days and am about to lose my mind. I worked outside the home for years -and have always wanted to stay home. Now that I have been able to (for about 18 months - and financially, it’s a huge struggle), I feel guilty about being annoyed - I should feel thankful that I am home and don’t have to call in sick and let a set of co-workers down. So, whenever I’m about to have a meltdown because I’m exhausted from being up for days and the kids are cranky and slimy - I just have to remind myself, that I am blessed to be able to be here and that previously, I would’ve felt guilty about leaving them. Nobody can ever prepare you for the guilt (and sleep deprivation) that comes with motherhood!
October 13th, 2008 at 10:59 amwhat he will remember is that you were THERE.
October 13th, 2008 at 11:16 amThanks for sharing this. You’ve put into words the feelings that I and I’m sure most others have felt/are feeling.
October 13th, 2008 at 11:25 amHope your kids are better soon.
Yes, the damn crafts. I feel the same way. I like the Wizard of Oz comparison - I’m hoping they remember the magic and not the frazzled mom working frantically behind the curtain to keep up the illusion.
October 13th, 2008 at 11:40 amI don’t have any children, but as the daughter of a good mother, I can say that YES, they will remember you rocking them…they will also remember the traditions you have created (the morning squirrel-watching, the book-a-day at Christmas, the birthday celebrations, etc.)
Really, what shines through in the end is the LOVE. You love your kids, that much is apparent to anyone reading this blog. And it will be apparent to your kids as they become adults…once you get through the dreaded teen years, that is. My mom and I butted heads all through those years, but now I am lucky enough to say that she is one of my best friends.
Mom guilt is normal for GOOD moms. My Mama friends all worry and talk about it. You’re not expected to be perfect at all times, you love your kids and you do the best you can at any given time.
It’s a thankless job, no doubt. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…if I had been blessed to have children, I’d want to be the kind of Mom you are.
October 13th, 2008 at 11:41 amPerhaps selfishly, I don’t suscribe to as much mommy guilt as I think most moms do. I was a psychologist before I left that world to raise my babies so that does color my vision. But whenever I think about what I should have done better for my kids, I STOP and remember what Frank McCourt said at the beginning of his book, Angela’s Ashes. “A happy childhood is hardly worth your while.”
You may think I’m crazy but he’s right. People with crazy, scary, bad childhoods rise to the occasion and triumph all the time. They are the best people we will know in life. Others have an easy time of it growing up and spend hours in shrinks offices going over their neuroses ad nauseum. Truly we moms can cut ourselves some slack. And read Angela’s Ashes if you haven’t already! It is great for giving you hope and perspective.
P.S. I’m not suggesting that we give our kids a crummy childhood, just that we have some perspective.
October 13th, 2008 at 11:56 amYes!
I miss your posts like this. You are a great writer. Don’t take that as a dig to write more because Lord knows you are busy. It’s just a note to say thanks for a lovely post. This is definitely something that I’ve been contemplating for myself recently.
October 13th, 2008 at 12:03 pmI honestly think we all struggle with some kind of guilt about our kids…those of us who work feel bad that we work, and those who stay home feel bad that we can’t do 450 things at once. I just try to remember, every single day, that WE’RE ALL DOING OUR BEST. And that’s all we can do. And hopefully, our kids will know that when they’re older and trying to do it all with their own kids.
October 13th, 2008 at 12:14 pmGood questions. I will ponder them until my kids all start demanding my attention again. Which will probably be in 2 nanoseconds.
October 13th, 2008 at 12:35 pmI’m think you are writing a parenting manual. I suspect a great many of your reader wish/dream they could be as good as you. And if someone dares to write and say you have too many kids you have a posse that has your back. I’ll lead.
October 13th, 2008 at 12:44 pmIt’s so nice to know that I am not unique in my anxiety.
Great post.
October 13th, 2008 at 12:46 pmYES. Exactly. wow. me too.
October 13th, 2008 at 1:12 pmI agree we worry too much and over insubstantial things. Our mothers and grandmothers worried, for sure, but about different things. Food, clothes, manners being taught, school encouraged and a clean house were once considered good parenting. Anything else was gravy. My parents sent me to piano lessons, but they did it because I wanted to learn how to play the piano, not because I HAD to be ‘exposed to the arts’. I’ve never played an organized sport in my life. My parents weren’t sporty and I never asked for it. They sure didn’t worry about the lack of it.
That said, you worry because you are a good, conscientious mom who wants the best for her children and right now, for our generation, that means making sure they get to experience a little bit of everything.
It also sounds like you’re raising seven kids without the benefit of extended family (unless you’re just not mentioning them in the blog, which would be understandable - privacy and all that) and if you are, my hat is off to you. I rasied two that way and it was hard having no grandmother around to babysit and have sleepovers, no cousins to teach them how to swing, etc..
From out here in Internetland, it looks like you’re doing a stellar job.
October 13th, 2008 at 1:30 pm“Smoke and mirrors” describes it perfectly. When I am exhausted and stressed out and sometimes angry I continue talking to my daughter in my happiest voice, telling her stories and singing. I always wonder: is she buying this or does she see? I hope that by the time she’s old enough to remember, I’ll have mastered the art of ensuring she doesn’t see.
Great post.
October 13th, 2008 at 1:58 pmChris, rocking your baby, with your other baby drawing and talking right nearby sounds like a wonderful place to be. All the other stuff will get done soon enough. And you’re dressed just right! Who needs glamour when you’re the center of your kids’ universe?
And maybe you’re right about us all fabricating worries. I’ve just been reading about someone born in 1930 in the midwest. They had the depression, drought, killing high temperatures - 118 degrees, the dust bowl, locusts and polio with no vaccine in sight to worry about, all at the same time! Now there’s stuff for a mother to worry about!
October 13th, 2008 at 1:59 pmIs it possible to mother without guilt? Guilt is part and parcel of the hardwiring of mothering and we’re fooling ourselves if we think we’ll ever be able to rationalize it enough or be realistic enough to be able to ditch it.
After all these years, the only way I’ve found of coping with all the soul crushing guilt of this job is to simply slap a label of “mommy guilt” on it and move on. For some reason, recognizing it for what it is makes the burden just a bit less soul crushing.
Don’t know if any of that made sense, but I know meant, LOL.
October 13th, 2008 at 2:21 pmI try hard not to be bogged down with wrongly placed mommy-guilt. I should, and do, feel guilt for the amount of time I am on the computer. Though I AM home with my kids and available, rather than having to give them to someone else to care for during the day. (I say as I just accepted a very part-time job)
October 13th, 2008 at 2:33 pmMy children have so much, and they are turning out very well, so I am doing something right. At least enough right that God’s Grace is covering the rest! LOL
I am very proud and not at all worried about the one adult child I have recently seen go out into the world on his own. And that is amazing. I have no sadness or feelings of worry for him. So I don’t allow myself to be overcome with guilt.
NOONE is perfect.
I think if we were fully present in every moment in our children’s lives two things would happen 1) our children would get a false sense of their own importance (i.e. no where else in the world are people going to pay all of their attention to them all of the time) and 2) our own heads would explode from being “on” all of the time.
For all of human history mother’s have had to divide their attention not just between individual children but between the children and the necessary work of keeping the children cared for. There was a time when feeding children and keeping them safe and healthy would be a full day’s work everyday… just because that work doesn’t take as much time now doesn’t necessarily mean that our children will be best served by turning all of that time and energy entirely to paying attention to them…
So don’t feel guilty for doing what almost every mother has done since time began… feel normal, really normal
October 13th, 2008 at 2:42 pmHow many times I’ve had the exact thought….will he remember that I was here or that I was typing at the same time I was “here”?
October 13th, 2008 at 2:42 pmOh how you speak to me today! Seriously! You are my voice:)
October 13th, 2008 at 2:49 pmChris- you are am amazing mom. Please don’t forget it. Your children will remember how much you love them, how you took them to football, how you were always there for them. They will remember the important things and they will know that they are loved.
October 13th, 2008 at 3:12 pmwhat the hell is a good mother anyway…..people have ridiculously high expectations nowadays,i live in nazareth israel.All the Grandmothers here brought up huge families in small houses,they had no modern conveniences…..my mother in law brought up 6 children,she got up at 4 every morning to make her own bread….she sat every night until 1am knitting them all sweaters by gas light….god I could go on and on!…..these women were amazing, they never complained unlike me!! I have 6 kids and every modern convenience and I still whinge and feel guilty….we all do the best we can………
October 13th, 2008 at 3:51 pmYes, the guilt. About most things, but especially computer time. Oh the computer. I’ve often thought about keeping track of all the minutes I spend on the computer in a day, but I have a feeling my maternal guilt-o-meter would blow.
October 13th, 2008 at 3:58 pmAin’t that the truth! My kids have no paint. None. Sometimes I feel guilty that they don’t get to make a mess with paint, unless my eldest does at school. But they don’t seem so unhappy and deprived without them either. And so we go on. The things that we feel guilty about.
October 13th, 2008 at 4:35 pmA beautiful post about the feelings we all have. I hope my children remember the days our house was clean more than the days we couldn’t find school clothes.
October 13th, 2008 at 5:19 pmI agree completely. I worry so much when one of my kids has a temperature or gastro or a cough, and I know the worry is disproportionate to the illness. And similar worries about providing enough stimuli; creative play opportunities; matching clothing; safe trampolines; etc etc.
October 13th, 2008 at 5:31 pmI’m sure it’s because we have no “true” worries left, like food / shelter / safe water.
I remember reading Pillars of the Earth, and being amazed at small children many years ago living in forests and fending for themselves.
We just need to keep reminding ourselves how lucky we are.
Oh honey… my mom works at home and I remember when I was growing up, playing with my toys in the floor of her studio as she made a quilt or some other thing I didn’t understand. There are very few occasions I remember that I ever felt ignored or like she wasn’t paying attention. I remember when she let me cry a bad day out or the look on her face whenever she realized that I had developed a fever overnight - I remember that she was there and that I felt loved. You seem just as kickass as my mom. They aren’t going to remember those days when you had to finish writing something; they’re going to remember that they felt loved.
October 13th, 2008 at 5:34 pmMy kids are now 20, 16, and 7. The oldest ones often say “Remember that time you ——–” and I don’t remember it one bit. The memories are always pleasant ones. So, *they* remembered the good times, although I don’t always remember the same ones.
October 13th, 2008 at 7:08 pmVery poignant. (I think I even spelt that right? It’s early morning here…) As an example of my ridiculous maternal guilt - I spent a good portion of last week, having insomnia because I was suddenly very stressed because my 4 kids, aged 7-2 (3b/1g) still share a single room. This was after I saw my friend and her two kids who each have their own beautifully decorated room. I started thinking my kids are not getting to develop their individulness sharing a room, and they can’t really decorate it etc etc. They are not going to develop a sense of who they are and what they like… Ridiculous, I know and after a few days I calmed down but the things we do to ourselves to feel guilty!
October 13th, 2008 at 7:51 pmThat was a really great post. It makes me wish we had squirrels in Australia!
I just wonder if it wouldn’t be easier for everyone for them to go to school outside of your home. You sound overwhelmed and maybe a little depressed? I’m worried about you.
October 13th, 2008 at 8:04 pmfirst time post. i read your blog every day and marvel at what an amazing mother you are and wish you lived closer to me and not half a world away….yeah i know sometimes u suck and screw things up, but don’t we all? isn’t that how we support the psychiatrists of the future by prepping our kids for ‘em?
22 years ago my baby was “off colour”. as i held him i fretted about the housework, the lack of suitable clothes for the birthday dinner that night, the many other important and necessary things needing my attention.
12 hours later he was gone. sids.
so, please. sit there. we will wait for you to find the time to write to us.
October 13th, 2008 at 9:06 pmI think the good moms feels too much guilt, and the bad moms don’t feel enough guilt.
October 13th, 2008 at 9:21 pmWow…just wow. You said everything that’s been going through my head today.
October 13th, 2008 at 10:41 pm“Will he remember that I rocked him? Or will he remember that I was always typing, not fully present.”
I have this same conversation with myself frequently. Sigh.
October 13th, 2008 at 10:44 pmA million times yes.
October 13th, 2008 at 11:42 pmHe’ll remember that you rocked him, she’ll remember that you let her work next to you. The boys will remember that you went to their games, and cheered.
You’re only superwoman if you wear your undies on the outside.
October 13th, 2008 at 11:50 pmYou are a wonderful mother, no smoke an mirrors. In all honestly I read your blog primarily because I truly enjoy reading your stories of your family, but also because if we ever have children one day, I’d like to know how someone makes it seem so enjoyable. Not like a job, but more like a daily adventure. You’re doing your best, that’s clear to me and it should be to you aswell.
October 13th, 2008 at 11:50 pmAs any mama of more than one knows, the guilt can be overwhelming.
He will remember that you rocked him. He will remember the way your hair felt in his hands and how your shirt was cool against his feverish skin.
Your blog makes me sit back and take stock - life is good. It isn’t what I planned, but it’s good.
Hang in there.
October 14th, 2008 at 12:44 amIn a way I kinda think that seeing the smoke and mirrors is part of the privilege of being a kid. When you are grown up, you see through it all, and the trick isn’t magic to you anymore.
You work so hard to give your kids a beautiful, happy life. Miles will remember climbing into bed with his mom when he had a fever. He’ll remember how she let him sit on her lap even though she was working. He’ll be comforted by the sound of typing, when he’s an adult, even though he doesn’t know why.
When I was a kid, there weren’t any smoke and mirrors. My parents let me see it all- their fears, the money problems, the deep anxiety. I wish I had some time that seemed magical, even if it was just smoke and mirrors.
October 14th, 2008 at 1:50 amIt’s so good to read this post and all the wonderful comments - there’s a real unity of thought here. Beautifully written and so open and honest. Hope everyone is well again soon. xx
October 14th, 2008 at 4:55 ami guess we all have “those”days. so often i look to you for inspiration on how to parent with more love and dedication. it is somehow comforting to know that we are all in this together, on the good days and the harder days. i admire your ability to share your experiences even on the harder days. thank you.
October 14th, 2008 at 7:15 amI too feel this way often. I agree w/ what a number of other people have said.Quite reading those magazines they just give you a complex. They do me.
October 14th, 2008 at 11:50 amWhen my six year old was four, I took him for allergy testing-twice. He got four shots every fifteen minutes for four hours. On two separate days. I cried, he cried, I rocked him and tried to sooth him. It was one of the more horrible things I’ve ever had to do with him. I have pictures of his poor little arms afterwards. He tells me now he doesn’t remember doing that.
October 14th, 2008 at 12:49 pmHe will remember that you rocked him. And how your hair felt in a braid down your back. And that, even though you were busy with typing, you could hold him at the same time.
I could really, really relate to this post. Thank you — have had more than a few smoke-and-mirror days here myself recently…
October 15th, 2008 at 12:00 pmYou are right on the money with this post.
October 16th, 2008 at 8:56 amBeautiful post, Chris!
October 19th, 2008 at 12:15 pm