Most days, most of the time, there are three humans in the house, so I have three people's worth of needs to consider. So far, that's one more set of needs than I can address at any given moment. Someone always ends up getting shortchanged. Some of the time, it's inevitable. (As in, Westley's preschool day ends at a certain time, which means I have to drive to school at a certain time, which means Ivy has to be in her car seat—caterwauling because she wants to eat RIGHT NOW!) And then there are the moments that I seem to purposefully draw the short straw.
This morning, instead of enjoying my oatmeal while it was hot, I made a yarn ball for Westley. I was hungry, my breakfast looked and smelled delicious, and instead of eating it, I carefully wound some yellow acrylic yarn into a sphere the size of a tennis ball. Because Westley asked me to. It never occurred to me to say no. It wasn't until I was out in the freezing garage in my bare feet looking for a yarn needle—so I could tuck the end of the yarn ball in securely—that I started to wonder what the hell I was doing!
Raising a family involves making sacrifices to one degree or another. I knew that going in, especially the second time around. I don't, however, buy into the message of complete self-denial as the path to successful motherhood. I don't believe that to be a good parent I must empty myself of all desires, put my needs on the back-burner, ignore my interests entirely. On the contrary. Happy, fulfilled individuals seem to be the happiest, most relaxed parents. And yet, somehow, it keeps happening that I lose. I push myself so hard to give my children the loving, timely, individualized care they deserve, that I disappear. It doesn't matter that I'm hungry and the food is hot, because Ivy needs soothing, or the laundry has to be moved to the dryer so Rob will have something to wear to work, or Westley...wants a yarn ball.
When I did finally sit down to eat, and reflected on the situation, I realized that my bizarre moment of self-denial was partially related to guilt. I've been feeling awful about not being as present for Westley as I used to be. I owe him big time for cutting back on our fun so drastically by going and having this needy baby. So if I can pay back some of that debt by whipping up a silly, spur-of-the-moment toy? Awesome. But Westley's whim trumping my meal happened so abruptly and without any real thought from me. Whether or not I believe in putting my needs last, I realized that I've been developing self-denial as a reflex over the past ten weeks as a mother of two!
Raising a family involves making sacrifices to one degree or another. I knew that going in, especially the second time around. There will be compromise. Someone will always have to wait. Someone will be last. And the truth is, I really don't mind being last, as long as I'm not last every time, by default.
Tomorrow, I'm eating my breakfast while it's hot.
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The title of this post comes from the following quote, which I'm sure you've seen pop up around Mother's Day:
"A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie. — Tenneva Jordan"
While this certainly sounds like several of the mothers I know personally, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about this as a mother. Thoughts?
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9 comments:
We, as a culture, hold the martyred mother up on so high a pedestal, that we lose sight of the obvious truth - no one likes a martyr. How good would the pie taste if you sat there eating it under the watchful gaze of the mother who, supposedly, doesn't care for it? I'm guessing not that great.
What about Westley grabbing materials while you enjoy some warm spoonfuls of breakfast, and having a "planning" conversation with him about what you're going to do, all while still eating? I used to do this all the time as a nanny, all without ever pulling out the phrase, "Hang on a minute, I'll do it when this is done," to avoid the inevitable anger and whining that results from hearing that sentence as, "Hang on, I'm too busy for you right now."
You need your food (and your sleep, and your exercise, and your space, and room to breathe). But it's not always a linear race, where someone has to be last. Especially not you.
This is beautifully well-written, and something that very much needs to be said. There are a lot of necessary sacrifices that mothers need to make when caring for tiny needy beings. But there's so much difference between making necessary sacrifices and automatically making everything else in the world come before you.
I think we all want children who know how to give from their hearts, selflessly, and who also know how to ask for what they want and need and stand up for themselves as necessary. I don't think they will learn either of those things from us if we just put ourselves on the back burner, all the time.
And personally, I think it's a lot more mature to say you do like pie, and then decide whether or not you're going to sacrifice or share (or not!).
Thanks again for writing this!
Yeah. I like pie too. WITH ice cream.
This post was so thoughtful and comes on the heels of a really nasty semi-breakdown I had about Andrew coming home 25 minutes later than expected when I was supposed to go out with some neighborhood mamas for dinner... I totally FREAKED out. It had been building for weeks I guess.
Having three little boys is emotionally and physically exhausting, laden with guilt, feeling like I constantly "owe" one or the other for time I have spent preparing meals or breastfeeding the youngest instead of reading a book to the other. It is craziness. And I realized that I hadn't actually looked at myself in the mirror for several days. Eyebrows furry, frown lines showing, I barely recognized myself. This mama stuff will make us hard if we don't allow time for ourselves. And hard is not an adjective I want my sons to use to describe me.
So many sacrifices as a mom. Some of them I am happy to do because it makes me happy to see my family thrive. But sometimes I lose it and just need to take care of me. There is so much guilt in balancing the needs of several people, and the age gap that Julian and Audrey have between them means that they have very different needs. I feel like I'm constantly telling one of them, "I don't have time for that right now, I'm _____." And that sucks. I hate that I say that to them. I want there to always be time for each of their needs to be met. But there just isn't.
I think part of our culture is that women are supposed to be martyrs for our families. Maybe not so much now, but that seems to have been the traditional role. And I don't think I want to be a martyr. I want balance, and feel like we ALL deserve to be happy. It's such a tough place to get to, but I feel like some days I get there and we all are feeling content and like we have enough for ourselves.
I really like pie. A lot. I might not get the biggest piece, but I'd really like a piece.
I've said this more times than I can count, but you are a GREAT person and an AMAZING mom. The kids won't remember the times that you feel are failures because they are so obviously loved and cherished. That love is far more precious than a super attentive, "perfect" parent.
Also, four pieces of pie = 1 huge piece of pie that everyone can share.
Feeling guilty is very common in those early months with #2. Right now, she needs so much more than you or Westley but that will change. Soon you will have two little humans who won't need you as much and you will have time to eat pie (or oatmeal). I think full on sacrifice at the beginning is almost necessary because of the inability of human babies to care for themselves. These months will pass soon and you will find yourself watching and enjoying the relationship between your children. They become very reliant on each other and less so on you.
You are in the wee beginning of this multiple kid venture and your time is very soon! I don't like that quote at all to be honest, without a healthy, happy mother, the children will be miserable. It sounds very archaic.
And, it's probably the mother who had to make the pie. And clean up the dishes after everyone eats the pie...
My mom is one of those people who always put her children first. And now, as an adult, it breaks my heart, because she doesn't really ever assert her needs. So think of it as a valuable skill that needs to be preserved. It's almost part of one's independence.
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