Motherhood Changed Me

For the first two months we both got up, three to four times per night. It was usually Kate who woke me up, and then I would wake both Jack and Mary as it was snack time. We took turns with each one, alternating bottles and nursing (Jack generally handling the bottle shift) and with rare exception, Mary would finish first, or fall asleep, and Jack would take her and happily climb back into bed. That left me with Kate, and in my struggle to stay awake, reruns of the Nantucket based comedy, Wings.

One night, after Jack and Mary had left me alone in the dark with Kate and the Hackett brothers, I dozed and woke to find not Joe and Brian and Sandpiper Air but Susan Smith, the mother convicted of rolling her car with her two young sons strapped into their car seats into a lake, on my television. Where only one year before the story of Susan Smith horrified me, now, in the dark with my tiny child nestled in my arm, I was nauseated. Motherhood changed me, the idea of being responsible for the death of my children was more than my exhausted self could take and I immediately turned off the television and headed back to bed, keeping Kate close to me for the rest of the night.

My curious self had watched much of the original programming when the Susan Smith story first made news. By all accounts hers was a truly horrible childhood, full of the kind of things that create really destructive adults. She lied, she deceived her community, she placed blame on an anonymous black man and in the end, she killed her children. And eight years ago I could watch it all on television, with a odd curiosity as to how could this really happen.

Not anymore. Motherhood changed me, it's more than I can even consider, and it's unconscionable.

Critical Thought on Mother's Day

My mother has always been harshly critical of other mothers. She focused her judgemental commentary on three women, all with the same name, but had no problem in lashing out at others when she found it appropriate. In retrospect I see that no one was really safe from her critical eye, the mothers of most of my childhood friends having been targeted at one point.

For reasons never completely understood it was my aunt who faced the worst of her blows. The mother of five children, she was constantly blasted by my mother for the choices she made. Clothing, schools, church and travel were all easy targets; the dynamics of family order a favorite topic for my mother who was convinced that there was no possible way to manage five children. That all five children are grown, amazing people with full lives of their own is the best response. My aunt, also the mother of twins, has supported me mightily for the past 7 years. She cheers me on, tells me I am doing a good job, and hugs me when I am tired. She was there on the day the girls were born; she held my hand, changed a diaper and confirmed what I had hoped to be true: my grandmother would have been very proud of me, and my family. Her love and support, not to mention proven track record, makes my days a little brighter.

Mothering is hard. My two children challenge me, enrage me, thrill me, love me and bring me more happiness than I could have ever expected. The choices I make are difficult; I don't always do what's best but I try to do what is best for us. I'm not immune to criticism; I fault other parents for putting their children in danger, for allowing them to run willy nilly through Trader Joe's and for sending them back to school before they have had time to fully recover from whatever kept them home. It is difficult for me to understand why some people fail to take responsibility for their own children, or why they don't see themselves as role models to children who watch everything they do. When it's my job to set the standard and take actions that support our children as part of a greater world, why isn't that the job of every parent? It's easy to criticize and hard to do the job that maintains the standards in which I believe. But I try, I try not to be critical of others, and I hope that most people are doing the best job they can.

Certainly there are mothers who, simply put, are just not good at this. Mothers who harm their children, or put their needs categorically in front of those of their child; mothers who abandon their children or worse, although that is something that I now, as a mother, cannot even discuss. But in the end, I do believe that we are trying our best. It's from other mothers that I draw encouragement, and occasionally reprieve. My girls know to find Tracy at school if I'm not around, that Kari will teach them to do flips in the pool, Lisa will join them for tea, and Sato will spend hours teaching them to jump rope; but for the influence of these people my children's lives would be far less colorful . We may not do everything the same but we all do what we think our best is, and that is not anything I can ever criticize.

Perhaps the very best present anyone can give their mom on Mother's Day is to grow up and be the very best person they can be. As much as I love the buttons and paintings made in art class, I think the very best gift is to see, even now, two happy and well adjusted children who work hard, have fun, treat others kindly and love their family. Happy Mother's Day to those who help, those who encourage, support and enlighten, those who taught me how to be a mother, and the two children who give me reason to celebrate.

Adult Content

"Ally...Ally, have you talked to an adult today?", my former college roommate interrupted me.

In fact I had not.

That's not true, I did speak to the woman who gave me my tea. Thankfully there was no one in line behind me, and the children were quite happy with their muffins, so I gave her a complete answer when she asked about Mary and Kate's hats.

"Whole Foods, I bought them at Whole Foods, probably two years ago. But you know, just recently I saw them, hmm, I think it was the one on North, the new one. I hadn't seen them in some time, maybe it's because they are new, the store, not the hats! Anyway they are just great hats, and they are lined so no issues, warm and soft, the girls never take them off. You know, I don't know if they come in adult sizes, I didn't check, but you could, sure, you could stop by and see if they have your size. Maybe I will too! Everyone loves them, maybe I need one also. But you know, would I really wear it? I mean, it's cute but is it right for me, should I really have a blue bear looking thing on my head? Is that what I am saying? I actually just bought a new hat, I was in New York last week, without the girls, oh is that hard, but I stumbled across a wonderful sale and bought a lovely black cashmere hat, really! Talk about not scratching, it's soft and warm and probably just better for me all around than a blue bear, but they are cute, no getting away from that. "

The 20 year old college student who works part time at my neighborhood coffee shop, the same one who once thought she wanted to have children, and a blue bear hat, was wishing she had never asked.

You see, yes, I do talk to adults.