Musings on Motherhood

About a week ago, a co-worker of Brett's phoned me to ask a few questions about being a stay-at-home mom. She recently had her first baby, and is making the difficult decision as to whether or not she should stay home, or keep working. As I listened to all of her reasons, expectations, and fears, I tried to stay neutral and be as honest as I possibly could be. Bottom line is, I probably terrified her. For me, it's a no brainer, I really do strongly believe that moms (or dads) should stay home with their kids. I had children to HAVE them, to teach them, to introduce them to the world, to EXPERIENCE being a parent, to be there for every little tragedy and victory that occurs on a daily basis. Mostly though, I realized one thing early on - nobody will care for your child the way that you would. Even if they are the best nanny/day care worker/relative (of whatever degree) on the planet, they're not you. Being a mother every hour of every day has definitely been the best thing I have ever done. It is the most rewarding job a woman could ever have. I really believe that. It does, however, have a definite down side.

First of all, there are no quarterly reviews. Nobody pulls you in to say, "Thanks, great job, we're giving you a raise and a promotion." Very rarely do people SPONTANEOUSLY say thank you, except for your husband (if you have a good one, which luckily, I do). Usually "thank you" only occurs after repetitive prompting. Even when you're children get better at it, the really heartfelt expressions of gratitude will probably not occur until they have kids of their own. Secondly, there are no coffee breaks, no lunch breaks, and you don't get to punch out at five o'clock. In reality, being a stay-at-home parent is a RELENTLESS task. There is ALWAYS something, or someone that needs your attention. I'm not saying that you NEVER get to take five minutes and read a book. I'm just saying that you RARELY get the opportunity, and it's usually at the expense of something else. Thirdly, your co-workers never surprise you with a birthday cake in the break room. If there is a birthday cake anywhere in your future, you will bake it. Lastly, you get stupid. The lack of adult conversation, knowledge of current events, sleep deprivation, and constant multi-tasking, eventually erode your brain. It's sad, but it's reality. The good news is that mothers' brains, much like lizards' tails, seem to regenerate themselves once their kids get older. Your flabby stomach, however, is entirely up to you and will do nothing to repair itself on its own.

Speaking of flab - I have to say that as I spoke to this woman, who seemed amazed at my ability to handle two children (let alone one) I suddenly felt strong, brave, and empowered beyond belief. I realized that as my mind and body have grown a bit mushy, my resolve has been sharpened to a steely point. There is nothing that I can't accomplish! There is nothing left to fear! Any foul and hideous smelling liquid (or solid for that matter) that can be secreted, or expelled with force from the human body - holds no horror for me! I'm never woozy at the site of blood, I once stuck my hand into the toilet to retrieve a toy that was resting on a bunch of you-know-what without flinching. My emergency response skills can rival any trained EMT. Not only can I survive off four hours of sleep, I can maintain sanity, quell arguments, avert disasters, heal owies with magic kisses, and repair princess dresses. I am a force to be reckoned with. I am a mother.

At the end of this conversation, I told this woman what I would tell anyone faced with the same decision. Just be the best mom you can be. Be honest with yourself about what that is, and don't feel guilty by comparison. Feel guilty if you're doing a cruddy job and need to re-evaluate, but never feel badly because you're not quite June Cleaver. Whenever I'm overwhelmed, exhausted, or just want to lock myself in the bathroom with a bowl of cookie dough leaving my children to their own devices - I try to think of the amazing things that have happened over the past few years. One of my most vivid memories of my oldest daughter involves being in a store with her and my husband when she was around 18 months old. We were waiting in line, and my husband was holding her. She was smiling and laughing when she suddenly cuddled into her dad, snuggling her head into his chest, and said, "Happy...happy." That's what it's all about.