Appreciating the strangeness
November 26, 2009
Do you ever have moments where you step back and reflect, “Wow, my kids are going to have memories of the holidays that are done this way, with me as the mother.” It sounds like a very obvious statement, but there is something really strange about it, when you allow yourself to fully inhabit this reality. We all grew up with our own family traditions, and we associate the holidays with how we were raised to celebrate them. But as adults, it is not always possible, or even desirable, to recreate or continue these family traditions when we now have in-laws, distance, divorce, or other factors that change the way we do things. So I stop this Thanksgiving and take a look around me: this is the way, so far at least, my kids will remember this holiday.
And I am the adult in this picture. Somehow when I think about Thanksgiving, I still picture myself as the child, sitting in the backseat for the long drive to my grandmother’s house, running around with my cousins and putting on plays, eating lots of dessert and passing out on the way home. I am lucky to have nice memories of this holiday, and I will always treasure them. But now it’s my kids’ turn. It is truly amazing to try to step into my children’s shoes– see the world through their eyes. Wow, I think, they are just taking this all in, going along with whatever plans we have made, finding their place in the way of things. What an incredible experience, to be a child. You never know what’s going to happen next, not really. You understand some, but not all, of what goes on around you, and while you can’t articulate exactly how you feel, you know when you feel complete and happy.
Maybe it’s not so different from being an adult after all.
The difference, though, is that now we do have some choices, which, of course, come with many responsibilities. My intent is to not get lost in all these responsibilities, but to still feel the wonder I felt as a child, realizing again and again that, wow, we are really the actors on somebody else’s stage, not only the central character of our own.
Book Recommendations
November 18, 2009
There are so many great real-life mama stories these days, but some really stand out to me. I will update this list as I find more, but I chose these because they all look at motherhood a little differently–
Momma Zen, by Karen Maezen Miller
Wonderful to read anytime from pregnancy through parenting a young child, this author faces the fear and uncertainty we all feel with compassion and real wisdom.
Perfect Madness: Motherhood in the Age of Anxiety, by Judith Warner
A more sociological and political view of our current culture of motherhood, this book is consciousness-raising and sure to strike good book club debates.
Waiting for Birdy: A Year of Frantic Tedium, Neurotic Angst, and the Wild Magic of Growing a Family, by Catherine Newman
Funny and honest. Definitely a good read while pregnant with a second child.
Confessions of a Slacker Mom, by Muffy Mead-Ferro
I love how these “confessions” give us permission to do what’s easy, instead of always trying to follow the dominant culture’s more perfectionist ideals of motherhood.
Asking for help
November 9, 2009
There are some questions I almost always hear when talking to moms about motherself– do I really need help? I mean, shouldn’t I be able to do this on my own? And, how do I decide to choose motherself– maybe I should start up my yoga practice again, or take a pottery class, or go back to therapy. There are so many wonderful support services out there, all of which can help you feel more like yourself again, help you get your life back on the track you want to be on.
When I hear these questions, my response is not to jump on my advertising soapbox, but rather to listen for what is underneath this concern. I think many moms feel deeply disappointed by their own disappointment over motherhood, work, and marriage. We expect that movie ending, the one where the woman is laughing, holding her baby next to the man she loves. Roll credits. But in real life, marriage, and motherhood are often very trying. We wonder how it is that so many women have done this job before us, often with fewer resources, and they never needed any of these luxuries, like pilates, and couples counseling, and art classes. So we crack the whip on ourselves, and deny ourselves help in order to prove that we don’t, and shouldn’t, need it.
I think there is a time and a place for all, or at least most, things. Sometimes, what we really need is some kind of physical release, and the body regaining balance will be enough to shift our minds as well. Other times, we are longing to be heard, and to be guided. Asking for help is a courageous step that sometimes constitutes half the battle itself. Why? Because the act of asking says that you are accepting where you are at, without shame. And when you are stuck, recognizing that you can’t move is the only way to get going again.
I tell women that really my job is to work myself out of a job. The beauty of the work I do is that it is can be sporadic or ongoing, so women can use me as a sounding board and a guide whenever they need it, and when they don’t, they can take that other courageous step- the one where you recognize and really feel your strength again, and break off from the help you’ve been receiving.
These things come in cycles, so needing help, in my mind, is a temporary state. If we learn to seek help when we need it, and let it go when we don’t, I think we are well on our way to embodying the kind of healthy centeredness we hope our children will have.
