Its Own Reward

This week, D told me that he wasn't sure he wanted to be a parent when he grew up, because it looks really hard to him. 

"You're always tired and we make work for you to do all the time, plus you have a job.  I just think it looks really hard."

After I had a moment of being ashamed of myself for making my boys think they are a burden and that my life is crap because I'm a parent, I told him that yes, parenting is hard work. But it has one fabulous, built-in reward: the children. 

My rewards:

• A boy who loves to visit with me, to sit on the sofa at night and just chat.  About what's going on with friends, his weird thoughts, his dreams (not aspirations, mind you -- long-winded descriptions of his nighttime adventures.  Payback for my own childhood, I guess...), contemplations on the cosmos, fears, hopes...  I know that it won't always be like this.  Someday soon, he'll grow up into a teenager and I'll miss these talks.  So this is my reward, being paid forward.
• A boy who wakes up in the morning and smiles and says he slept "great!" and sits up and says "You're beautiful today, Mom."

• Good grades and good health, even if maybe not always good manners.  (That's my fault, I know...)
• Creative minds growing in my home.  Such fantastic drawings and stories being made!  Although, when they are making them up together, they always end up in some idiotic song or scatalogical humor.  But that's part of the Boy Charm, right?

• Boys who understand that when you pee somewhere other than right into the water, that you need to clean it up right then.  (You're welcome, Future Daughters-In-Law)
• A boy who tells me that the reason I'm the Best Mom In The Universe is because I cook him delicious food, just the way he likes it.  And he doesn't like anything.
• A pair of boys who love each other, and aren't afraid to show it.  They pass each other in school and say "Hi" and even hug if they can. 

And today I got the sweetest note from Mom about my kids, and maybe that's a different - also very wonderful - kind of reward: knowing that the mother you respect, who raised some fairly fabulous kids of her own (cough, cough...), thinks your kids are pretty great, too.

Thoughts on Motherhood

I found this piece that I wrote last year, and thought I would share it with you...

August 22, 2009 - I just took a survey online about motherhood. It asked the question:

Mothering In Your Own Words...

Would you please share with me your thoughts and feelings about your mothering experiences and your goals, hopes, and aspirations for the future. Please respond in whatever direction you'd like. These are the kinds of questions I'd like to consider:

What do you want for yourself and for your children?

Where does your mother role or motherhood fit within these plans?

What choices do we have as mothers?

Do you believe that if women CHOOSE motherhood, we are supposed to give up other areas of our lives? What if we don't?

 My response:

I want my children to be healthy and happy and safe. I want them to be responsible, caring, considerate, productive, compassionate, loving, trusting adults. For myself, I want to be balanced and healthy. Happy would be nice. I'm none of those things. I think I pour all of myself into taking care of and providing for my kids and have nothing left over for me.

I don't think that when we choose motherhood we should be expected to give up everything else. Yes, some things we have to give up - they are frankly incompatible with responsibly raising good people. Bad habits, bad behavior, long hours away from home, a certain degree of freedom (to come and go as you please, for example). Even people who can hire other people to help them raise their kids should give those things up. But we should not be expected to give up our jobs, talents, hobbies, interests, enthusiasms, joys, health, looks, laughter... I don't think that people expect moms to give up those last items, but the first ones are looked at as either/or propositions and since you do have to make sacrifices for the sake of responsible parenting, then I have found that the latter items fade away, too.

That sounds grim. I think it wasn't really that way so much when I was married - bearing the full burden of everything does make you lose all else. Motherhood is isolative enough, but you add on modern American life, and it's downright desolate.

Good thing I love the little buggers.