I just gave birth to my second child two short months ago, and the thing I’ve learned above all is that adding a second child to your family adds more than twice the work, more than twice the sleep deprivation, more than twice the frustration, more than twice the GUILT. And, yes, more than twice the love. Why, then, is it often so difficult for mothers to get past all of the frustration and guilt and allow ourselves the opportunity to genuinely enjoy the moments of love and joy that our children bring to our lives?
Part of the answer, at least, can be found in the same article, where the author provides a link to this gem. (In a slightly ironic, meta-Mommy moment, I was reading these articles on my iPhone, locked in my bathroom while my 4-year-old pounded on the door and demanded to know what I was doing in there.)
I get it. I really do. Childhood goes by in the blink of an eye. I’m pretty sure that my 4-year old was a newborn, like, last week. She twirls in her princess dresses and begs me to play dolls with her and swing her at the park. Sometimes I do…and sometimes I don’t.
Sure, on the surface it may seem obviously selfish to ignore your children while glued to your iPhone. We’ve all had mommy moments where we look at other parents and smirk inwardly that we are so much better at it than they are. In reality, however, the iPhone is just a metaphor, a symbol that could really be replaced by a book, magazine, TV show, computer, sibling, partner, or any other person. It’s an object, representative of Mommy’s Attention. The message here is that Mommy must devote all of her attention, 100% of the time, to watching her children’s every move, and, more importantly, that if she doesn’t, she’s a BAD MOMMY.
As if we don’t have enough guilt. As if we could ever live up to our own standards of mommy greatness. As if we need some other self-righteous person judging us by a 30-second snapshot of our actions. As if.
My own guilt could eat me alive. Earlier this week, I was talking to my husband about when our son might be weaned from nursing. I’m going on a week-long business trip in June, so I mentioned that if he wasn’t weaned by then, it would probably happen while I was gone. Immediately, I began to question whether I should go; it was not the first time I had done so. The trip is to Louisville, KY, to read AP exams, which I have wanted to do for several years and which should provide an immense opportunity for professional development and networking. It’s an opportunity that’s by invitation only, and I’m super stoked…except for the enormous guilt that I feel every time I think about leaving my family for a week. It’s not just being away from the baby, though that’s a large part of it. I also feel guilty for leaving my husband to take care of our two children alone for a week (though, let’s be honest, men travel for work all the time, without a second thought). I feel guilty for leaving my 4-year-old daughter, who is already convinced every time she loses sight of me that I’m never coming back. And I feel guilty because I’m excited at the prospect to be going on this trip, even though it means being away from my family for a week. Do you see a theme here? I’m torn; I want to be a good mother, a good wife, a good teacher. So why does it feel like I can only be good at one of those things at a time? Why do I have to pick?
I think this is a problem that is somewhat unique to women in our society. I’m not by any means saying that fatherhood is easy, or that fathers lack dedication or don’t make sacrifices for their children and families, but I really don’t think they have the same experiences that mothers have. I remember a few years ago when my husband stayed home with our sick daughter while I went to work, one of his (female) colleagues questioned “why his wife couldn’t do it.” Even other women are programmed to view childcare as a woman’s job, and raise questions when the mother isn’t there to fulfill that role.
I find that unspeakably sad. Why do we, as women and mothers, feel the need to judge other moms? What her kids are wearing, eating, saying, doing. Whether she breastfeeds (a great discussion of the great breastfeeding debate can be found here). What school her kids attend and activities they do. Whether she’s lost the baby weight or still carries a few of her pregnancy battle scars. Whether she’s washed her hair this week, or has spit-up on her clothes. I know; I do it all the time. I’m constantly measuring myself and my child against other mommies and their children. How much better would it be, though, if we supported rather than judged? Who better to empathize with a new (or not so new) mother’s experiences than one who is going or has gone through the same thing? Our friends and partners may provide a shoulder to cry on or nod in agreement with whatever we say (yes, dear…), but no one understands motherhood like another mother. I know that sounds smug and sanctimonious, but it’s the truth. Yet we, who are hardest on ourselves, are often also hardest on each other.
I feel that it’s so important to give yourself, and others, permission to be human, and that means giving yourself, and others, permission to fail. I feel that it’s important that, even though you’re a mommy, you’re a person as well. It is NOT the end of my daughter’s world if she has to play dolls by herself so Mommy can make a phone call or read a book. I believe that my children will be healthier for understanding that their parents are individuals with lives and interests that sometimes don’t revolve around Doc McStuffins and tea parties. I believe it’s important to know that I don’t stop being me just because I am also Mommy, and that they will learn to be stronger and more independent if they don’t rely on me for attention and gratification every second of their lives. I believe that it’s a skill that will serve them well in the future, when they are students, teammates, friends, and someone’s husband and wife. I believe that most mommies recognize, in some teeny, tiny part of our brains, that motherhood will use us up if we let it. Some mommies are ok with that; others are not. Some parents feel that everything else in life comes second to raising their children; others recognize that if we aren’t good to ourselves, we won’t be any good to our families. Neither choice is necessarily wrong, unless it’s being made because the mother feels pressured to do so.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m tired of the constant judgment that seems inherent with parenthood. Our lives as mothers would be so much easier with the support of our fellow moms, and in turn our children’s lives would be better. Everyone wins. So, I refuse to be judged. And you, judgmental mommy at the park—try paying less attention to what I’m doing wrong. You may be missing out on some of your own magical moments while you’re watching me on my iPhone. I appreciate your concern, but don’t worry…my kids will be fine, and just as importantly, so will I.
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