Mommy Wars - External or Internal
[This blog post was inspired by a friend of mine who lives in hotter climates.]
We hear a lot about the Mommy Wars. You know the woman who judges you for breast feeding. The woman who judges your for not breast feeding. The woman who judges you because you don't have your kid in a Mommy & Me Music Class at 2:00 p.m. on Wednesday when you are working and the toddler is at preschool. The woman who judges you for working. The woman who judges you for not working. The woman who judges you for not showing up to your kid's school to volunteer for the class party or not showing up for field day.
And you don't hear anything about Daddy Wars. Daddies are not expected to take time off from work, they are not expected to show up at school for events, they are not expected to do doctor visits, they are not expected to talk with teachers about sensitive issues. Don't hear this as they don't. I'm merely listing the differences in expectations for mothers versus fathers in today's society. We try to so hard to be progressive, but when it comes to parenting, the old taboos, mores, and norms are firmly in place. We do try. There are Beards and Braids events where people teach Dads how to do their daughter's hair. There is a Dad's event at school where Dad can join his children for a donut and coffee before school. But it is still the mother who is expected to run the house and rear the child regardless of her status in the working world or her needs for time away from the kids or her marital status.
I'm a working mom with two kids. Each child has their own unique set of needs. One has some deep emotional needs and the other has medical needs (I'm sure the emotional needs will surface in time). I spend quite a bit of my work life shuttling one kid to doctor's offices and hospitals for diagnoses, tests, follow ups, reviews, etc. And then taking her right back to school so that I can get back to work. Husband travels for work and when he isn't traveling he works from home.
The division of labor in our household means that I am the primary care giver of our children. Primary, not only. Husband does a great deal of the household chores. The primary care giver means dress them in the morning, baths, doctor's appointments, paperwork, put them to bed, etc. Husband often takes Prima to karate when he is home. He shows up for Field Day at school. He hangs out for the Halloween Party at school. He picks the kids up early and takes them for ice cream. When I travel for business (about 3 times a year) he does it all and even has barrettes in their hair for school.
And somehow there is still judgment that I'm not doing enough. I'm not volunteering in the classroom. I don't show up for class parties. I'm not there for Halloween parades. I am there for belt graduations in karate. I am there for school plays. I am there for Chinese New Year performances. I am there for parent/teacher conferences. I do check homework. We read together. We practice the lines for the plays. But to the outsider, I'm not there. Prima's teacher has no idea that I spend too much of my work time shuttling the second kid to medical appointments. But I feel the judgment. We get home weekly status updates with notes like "Prima needs to work on focusing on her work." "Prima needs to practice her penmanship at home." "Prima was running in the hallway today." And with each note home, I feel the judgment burning through the page that I'm somehow an absentee mom. That I'm not doing enough by not being there at school, in her classroom, present for parties, present for parades, present. Sometimes I forget to check and initial her homework. Sometimes we don't get our 20 minutes of reading in for the night. Sometimes homework doesn't even get done. What kind of parents are you? The kind who are tired at the end of every day. The kind who pick up their kids at 5:00 and off to karate at 5:30, then dinner, jammies and bed. Should we squeeze in homework right before bed when the child can barely keep her eyes open? Should we forego the theater program that she adores so that she can get more homework done? Or should we let it go and let her be 6 years old finding out what she loves and doesn't love?
But here's what I think is really happening in my world. I think the judgment is internal. If I stop and think about it, I don't think Prima's First Grade teacher judges me for not being at school. She has a First Grader too and certainly she isn't volunteering in the classroom because she is teaching in her own. I think I feel guilty because of those societal norms that are so firmly entrenched. My grandmother would wash her children's shoelaces when they napped. She was so proud that she spent every waking moment being productive. That's ingrained. How do you live up to that in today's world? I feel accomplished when I catch up on the laundry and have the house tidy enough for the cleaning lady to clean it. I feel accomplished when the toys are put away and we have completed play rehearsal, read our 20 minutes, practiced penmanship for 10 minutes, and found time to Sit Still Like A Frog for some quiet meditation. I feel accomplished if I can go a whole day without yelling at my kids. I feel accomplished when I meal plan and grocery shop and then cook those meals. I feel accomplished if I have the kids in bed and asleep well before 8:00. And I drown in guilt when I yell at them. I drown in guilt when I forget to check homework. I drown in guilt when the reading doesn't get done. I drown in guilt when I don't cook, but make them oatmeal or a bowl of cereal. I drown in guilt if I the hill I choose to die on is cleaning up the family room and we spend too much time yelling and arguing about it but if I didn't make them clean up their mess what would they learn. I drown in guilt when I don't have enough one-on-one time with either child. I drown in guilt over real and fabricated obligations that I am unable to meet. I drown in guilt simply because so many of my friends have far worse issues to deal with and I don't know how to help.
One thing is certain and that is that society has not yet caught up to the needs of working mothers who work outside the home, to the needs of mothers who choose to work from home and parent, to the needs of women who choose to spend their time raising their kids, to the needs of women who must work to make ends meet, to the needs of mothers without a partner. We have forgotten that mothers are human beings who can only take on so much. Mothers are fragile. Mothers are strong. Mothers need support from all facets of society. We need workplaces that provide the necessary time off to take care of kids and not sacrifice vacation time to do it or worry about our job security while we tend to a feverish child. We need schools that perhaps understand that not all moms have the wherewithal to volunteer. We need family support systems that don't expect mothers to jump through yet another hoop to make it all come together in the end. We need friends who hold us up when we are drowning.
So, come along, let's be the change we need. Let's own our limitations. Let's be that friend to toss out the life preserver. Let's embrace our career. Let's embrace motherhood without losing ourselves. Above all, let's love ourselves for who we are: flawed and proud.
We hear a lot about the Mommy Wars. You know the woman who judges you for breast feeding. The woman who judges your for not breast feeding. The woman who judges you because you don't have your kid in a Mommy & Me Music Class at 2:00 p.m. on Wednesday when you are working and the toddler is at preschool. The woman who judges you for working. The woman who judges you for not working. The woman who judges you for not showing up to your kid's school to volunteer for the class party or not showing up for field day.
And you don't hear anything about Daddy Wars. Daddies are not expected to take time off from work, they are not expected to show up at school for events, they are not expected to do doctor visits, they are not expected to talk with teachers about sensitive issues. Don't hear this as they don't. I'm merely listing the differences in expectations for mothers versus fathers in today's society. We try to so hard to be progressive, but when it comes to parenting, the old taboos, mores, and norms are firmly in place. We do try. There are Beards and Braids events where people teach Dads how to do their daughter's hair. There is a Dad's event at school where Dad can join his children for a donut and coffee before school. But it is still the mother who is expected to run the house and rear the child regardless of her status in the working world or her needs for time away from the kids or her marital status.
I'm a working mom with two kids. Each child has their own unique set of needs. One has some deep emotional needs and the other has medical needs (I'm sure the emotional needs will surface in time). I spend quite a bit of my work life shuttling one kid to doctor's offices and hospitals for diagnoses, tests, follow ups, reviews, etc. And then taking her right back to school so that I can get back to work. Husband travels for work and when he isn't traveling he works from home.
The division of labor in our household means that I am the primary care giver of our children. Primary, not only. Husband does a great deal of the household chores. The primary care giver means dress them in the morning, baths, doctor's appointments, paperwork, put them to bed, etc. Husband often takes Prima to karate when he is home. He shows up for Field Day at school. He hangs out for the Halloween Party at school. He picks the kids up early and takes them for ice cream. When I travel for business (about 3 times a year) he does it all and even has barrettes in their hair for school.
And somehow there is still judgment that I'm not doing enough. I'm not volunteering in the classroom. I don't show up for class parties. I'm not there for Halloween parades. I am there for belt graduations in karate. I am there for school plays. I am there for Chinese New Year performances. I am there for parent/teacher conferences. I do check homework. We read together. We practice the lines for the plays. But to the outsider, I'm not there. Prima's teacher has no idea that I spend too much of my work time shuttling the second kid to medical appointments. But I feel the judgment. We get home weekly status updates with notes like "Prima needs to work on focusing on her work." "Prima needs to practice her penmanship at home." "Prima was running in the hallway today." And with each note home, I feel the judgment burning through the page that I'm somehow an absentee mom. That I'm not doing enough by not being there at school, in her classroom, present for parties, present for parades, present. Sometimes I forget to check and initial her homework. Sometimes we don't get our 20 minutes of reading in for the night. Sometimes homework doesn't even get done. What kind of parents are you? The kind who are tired at the end of every day. The kind who pick up their kids at 5:00 and off to karate at 5:30, then dinner, jammies and bed. Should we squeeze in homework right before bed when the child can barely keep her eyes open? Should we forego the theater program that she adores so that she can get more homework done? Or should we let it go and let her be 6 years old finding out what she loves and doesn't love?
But here's what I think is really happening in my world. I think the judgment is internal. If I stop and think about it, I don't think Prima's First Grade teacher judges me for not being at school. She has a First Grader too and certainly she isn't volunteering in the classroom because she is teaching in her own. I think I feel guilty because of those societal norms that are so firmly entrenched. My grandmother would wash her children's shoelaces when they napped. She was so proud that she spent every waking moment being productive. That's ingrained. How do you live up to that in today's world? I feel accomplished when I catch up on the laundry and have the house tidy enough for the cleaning lady to clean it. I feel accomplished when the toys are put away and we have completed play rehearsal, read our 20 minutes, practiced penmanship for 10 minutes, and found time to Sit Still Like A Frog for some quiet meditation. I feel accomplished if I can go a whole day without yelling at my kids. I feel accomplished when I meal plan and grocery shop and then cook those meals. I feel accomplished if I have the kids in bed and asleep well before 8:00. And I drown in guilt when I yell at them. I drown in guilt when I forget to check homework. I drown in guilt when the reading doesn't get done. I drown in guilt when I don't cook, but make them oatmeal or a bowl of cereal. I drown in guilt if I the hill I choose to die on is cleaning up the family room and we spend too much time yelling and arguing about it but if I didn't make them clean up their mess what would they learn. I drown in guilt when I don't have enough one-on-one time with either child. I drown in guilt over real and fabricated obligations that I am unable to meet. I drown in guilt simply because so many of my friends have far worse issues to deal with and I don't know how to help.
One thing is certain and that is that society has not yet caught up to the needs of working mothers who work outside the home, to the needs of mothers who choose to work from home and parent, to the needs of women who choose to spend their time raising their kids, to the needs of women who must work to make ends meet, to the needs of mothers without a partner. We have forgotten that mothers are human beings who can only take on so much. Mothers are fragile. Mothers are strong. Mothers need support from all facets of society. We need workplaces that provide the necessary time off to take care of kids and not sacrifice vacation time to do it or worry about our job security while we tend to a feverish child. We need schools that perhaps understand that not all moms have the wherewithal to volunteer. We need family support systems that don't expect mothers to jump through yet another hoop to make it all come together in the end. We need friends who hold us up when we are drowning.
So, come along, let's be the change we need. Let's own our limitations. Let's be that friend to toss out the life preserver. Let's embrace our career. Let's embrace motherhood without losing ourselves. Above all, let's love ourselves for who we are: flawed and proud.
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