Motherhood in France

Interesting article here about a now-popular book on motherhood in France. I don’t agree with all her points, but I do agree with the main theme – that mothers are probably going to be happier people if they get themselves a life in addition to their role as mothers.

I believe that society should help to make that happen, including not being judgmental about the choices they make. It’s their body, their life, and their child. If it’s not going to kill the kid or stunt it, then I think the mother is best positioned to decide what is right.

I grew up on formula, processed baby food and disposable diapers and can’t see any evident lasting negative effects from that. Perhaps a bit of breastfeeding would have helped the bond with my mother. However, knowing my anxious, perfectionist, needs-a-lot-of-sleep mother, I think it’s quite possible she was best served by my dad feeding me bottles in the middle of the night.

A mom in better mental and emotional shape usually leads to better times spent with the kids.

the dichotomy of motherhood

Mark has abandoned me for the comforts of a home bed. I told him that if he was leaving, he should take River with him. If River slept at home in his crib, both Mark and I would have the chance for a good night’s sleep. They’ll be back early tomorrow morning for another day of fun.

So, now I find myself alone in a tent at a campground. I hear a young woman singing to the accompaniment of a guitar, the flicker of flames, the sound of childrens’ voice, the night-time sounds of the forest. And I feel torn in two.

When they first left, I immediately felt an intense longing for River. I saw his clothing in my suitcase, came across his cheerios in my backpack. Each object I saw made me miss him, despite his being gone only minutes. Yes, he keeps me on my toes. Yes, I’ve been tired over the past few days, physically as well as emotionally. But at the same time, I’m enjoying the job.

Shortly before they left, I had the challenge of talking River out of eating a rock and instead, throwing it on the ground. Could I talk him into doing it himself so that he’d understand, so that I wouldn’t have to grab it away, so that he wouldn’t scream? It took a while, but I succeeded. And that felt good. I’m constantly being forced to grow with my child, to help him in his latest stage of development. Sometimes it’s difficult, but it’s not too threatening. Overall, he’s affectionate and shows his love for me. Unlike with a teenager, I don’t have to worry about him hating me for the long-term. Even if he gets upset, I know that within a few minutes, we’ll be on good terms again. This is a very forgiving way of allowing me to test out my role as a parent, without the threat of real rejection. I thrive on both the challenge and the expressions of love.

At the same time, what joy to roast marshmallows at leisure without having to look up every few moments to make sure that River is not running down a road with a car coming toward him. How nice to read a magazine, then a book. To luxuriate in a hot shower without him underneath me. To have quiet time alone, in a forest, in a tent that really, is a tight fit even for two adults.

At the same time, I miss his energetic little body crawling across the small space, forever seeking and exploring. How can I miss him and long for him so intensely, and at the same time, be so grateful for this time alone? One other wish would be a quiet evening with Mark in a tent in the forest. For that, I’ll have to hold out until our vacation later this summer, when we’ll be leaving River with my parents for two weeks.

I suppose this is the unresolvable dichotomy of motherhood – the child forever in ones heart and thoughts together with an ongoing need to live an independent life as one’s own person I feel lucky to have the love that makes my heart ache this way. At the same time, I wish I could draw a clearer line between my life as a mother and my own time, and not feel guilty as I’m living out one role or the other.

Have you found a good way to deal with this dichotomy?

Talkling too much about baby

My friend Lisa, with whom we spent Labor Day weekend, hadn’t seen me since my baby shower last October. She is 35 years old and as yet, unattached. We’d spoken a few times in the last 10 months and emailed a couple.

She told me I talk too much about River.

“I guess in our last phone call you talked about some other things,” she said. “This weekend it’s been better because I’m spending more time with you. But when I called you when he was a month or two old, there must be some hormonal change because you were really different. River was all you could talk about.”

She told me that some of her co-workers talk about nothing but their kids or their home repairs and she finds it very boring. She also feels sorry for them that they don’t have more in their lives to discuss.

This was a little depressing to hear because I didn’t want to become the type of woman who can only talk about her kids. My friend Evelina, mother to an almost-five year old and pregnant with her second, vowed that she wouldn’t bore people with talk about her child. Apparently she’d been bored with others talking her ear off. She stuck to it and rarely mentioned her son to me unless I asked. Only now do I realize how difficult that much have been.

I explained to Lisa that especially when a woman is breastfeeding, there isn’t much in her life in the month or two after childbirth than being a mother and trying to take basic care of herself. I also explained that a lot of people who work full-time probably don’t have time for a lot more than eating dinner, relaxing a little, taking care of their kids and maintaining their homes.

I know that some women grow apart from their childless, single friends once they have children because they no longer have the same priorities. I still value my childless friends and have maintained my friendships with them. But I also understand now that there is something about motherhood that draws women together. It is like membership in a certain club – an understanding that another woman, regardless of age, nationality or upbringing, has been through the same long, difficult and life-changing experience as you – an experience so full of pain and joy that it’s unlike any other.

When I was pregnant, I suddenly found it easier to talk to one of my friends who is now a stay-at-home mother. She took such an interest in and concern for my experience. She was very helpful in sharing her advice and wisdom. I also found that both during pregnancy (when it was more annoying) and now (when it’s more welcome) people seem compelled to share their stories, first their pregnancy stories, now whatever information they want to share about whatever baby is remotely connected to their life. Seeing another go through pregnancy or motherhood brings back the experiences to those who have been through it. I now feel this joy for my friends that are currently expecting, especially for the first time. More than ever, I want to help them out in whatever way I can.

When I told Mark what Lisa said about my talking too much about River, he responded, “Yes, you talk about him a lot, but so do I. I think that’s normal.” I thought back to the previous night, when we were all eating dinner together. Mark kept pointing out River’s face to Lisa as River chewed on lemons and limes. I thought it was funny and watched, but Lisa seemed to be more interested in her menu.

I didn’t expect parenting to be as interesting and as joyful as it has been so far, so I do take an interest in learning, in talking to other people, in comparing experiences. However, one reason I’d really like to get back into the workforce is I want to focus on something other than parenthood in-depth, to be current on one particular issue and be able to discuss it with other knowledgeable people, parents or not.

Since, as I move through the early stages of parenting, I do think a lot about motherhood, I’ll continue to have an interest in this subject. I hope that this blog will provide me with an outlet to process my thoughts and hopefully to enter into discussions with people thinking about similar issues. In the meantime, I need to continue developing myself in other ways, as I’ve been trying to do in the past months, and to expand the repertoire of conversation topics I have available to subjects beyond my adorable River.

Is Being a Mother Enough?

“Being a mother is not enough. Even an oyster can be a mother.” Charlotte Perkins Gilman

When I heard that quote while listening to the novel Loving Frank, it made me reflect on what is enough for me. I never expected being a mother to be enough. I expected it to be one part of the person I am. I’m actually pretty surprised at how fulfilling it is however, how fun it is to see aspects of yourself and the person you love most reflected in another, how rewarding it is to be able to nurture and love, how it helps one to appreciate the world when able to see it with fresh eyes.

Being a mother is still not enough for me to make me feel entirely fulfilled. I definitely need other aspects to who I am. Motherhood is taking a larger chunk of my life than I intended, yet I’m happy rather than concerned about it. I don’t want to be one of the women who suddenly feel themselves empty after their children are grown and gone because they’ve devoted themselves to nothing but their children. But I do want to enjoy life in the moment. And since being with River brings me joy, I’ll bask in that while it lasts. There will always be time to accomplish other things. But his fingers will only be this tiny, his skin so soft, his eyes so trusting, for so long.