“I was saying to a group of women the other day that I feel that my children have simultaneously made and destroyed my life.”
When I read these words by Rachel yesterday, I gasped. I gasped because that’s what I’ve been thinking all week; or suspecting, at least, deep down, quietly.
I’m sitting here typing this in my workspace and I can hear the kids calling my name. I’m trying to snatch just a few minutes work, as I do many times during the day. Yet they call, or come in here and tug my arm, or do any number of things that make me wonder if maybe I should put them in daycare, just for a day a week, just so I can get ‘my shit done’ (as I so lovingly call it). Yet I know I will miss them, crave them, and then that idea gets shelved again for the thousandth time.
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One of the earliest conversations I remember having with my mother was when I was about six or seven years old. At the time she was either just beginning, or in the middle of, her Master of Letters degree. The house was scattered with paperwork; these papers were mostly my bedroom, as that doubled as the study as well. My bookshelves were stuffed with manila folders that often spilled out over the desk like literary entrails.
What most put my young nose out was that timeless crime all children accuse their parents of – she wasn’t paying me enough attention.
On this particular day, there were tears. I was crying. I remember her pulling me up onto the brown velveteen lounge she still has and nursing me on her lap she didn’t even need to ask the matter; she already knew.
“You’re upset because I’m busy with study, aren’t you? You’re feeling neglected.”
I bit my lip and mumbled yes.
I can’t be sure, the memory fades here, but I’m almost certain she then asked, “Do you want me to stop?”
And I think I shook my head. “No, I want you to keep going.”
This was the truth, too. I didn’t like how her books and her ideas were distancing her (or so I thought) away from me but I never begrudged her from doing it in the first place. I mean, the project looked impressive. It sounded impressive. Every so often a thick parcel of notes from her lecturer in Armidale would arrive and I thought, Whatever she’s doing must mean something.
It did, surely. She got a graduation in a cap and gown and another ‘feather to the bow’ but I’m certain the personal satisfaction she got, the pride, was invaluable, and I like to hope that as a six year old I was able to figure that out on my own.
This is where we flash forward over twenty years, to the kids who stand next to me as I’m desperately trying to write notes on my manuscript. To my children who insist on having me part of their bedroom routine; when I have to be physically in the house when I’d earlier considered escaping to McDonalds or some other late night cafe and do work, and often wish I’d just left and let my husband deal with the fallout. It’s not like I haven’t done it before.
It’s this I need, I need, which I’m sure comes off as grating or ego-ridden to some people but some of us, I’m sure, will get it.
Because they know that it must mean something.
I just have to decide now how much I want this ‘something’ because it will result in tears and the ‘You don’t love me enough’ accusations, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet. I just hope they’ll understand in time, too.
I often thought when Keira was a little baby that parenting will only get easier as she gets older.
I was wrong – it’s getting harder.
{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
You know, people can pooh pooh motherhood being the toughest job all they like, it doesn’t make it less true!
Moo was never in care. She was either with me, MPS or my mother.
I had to put Too into childcare (loooong story) and she thrived there. It also helped her transition into school more smoothly. I wish I had given Moo that opportunity.
Even a morning a week can help with their socialisation. Look at it that way.
I hear you! I studied my post-grad in Midwifery while my first 3 children were young. I used my in-laws as babysitters then, however, as my family has increased and I commenced work as a midwife 3 nightshifts per fortnight I actually made the decision to put the children into our local creche. The best decision I ever made! The younger children still go there even though I am on another set of maternity leave. It gives me time to do ‘my things’ for one day a week and ‘frees up’ my in-laws to committed babysitting. It usually means I spend more quality time with them the rest of the week as I have accomplished most things I need to on that one day. Just a thought……. Also, I agree, motherhood is a very tough job but oh so rewarding at the same time. Hoping you feel better soon!
Oh, you sure struck a chord there, honey. As long as you’re giving her some one-to-one full on attention, you’re good to go. I gave my daughter three whole hours yesterday but I usually try to give her at least an hour a day to do whatever it is she wants/likes to do. And then it’s Mummy time.
Thank you so much for this post Karen. I so needed to hear this today.
I had a variety of reasons for not sending my children to preschool, even though I can see that there are many positives about children being in a preschool environment. For me, it is a matter of personal choice. The older two (aged 8 and 10) had no problems adjusting to school. The youngest (aged 5) will start school next year.
As a full-time SAHM though, I understand those moments when you just wish everyone would find someone else to solve their problems and hold their hands – just for 5 minutes. Numerous perfect sentences have formed in my brain but been drowned out by requests for snacks, assistance or intevention in sibling skirmishes before they could make it onto paper or computer screen. There are days when it is enough to make you tear your hair out in frustration.
However, for me the occasional frustration has been more than worth it. I love the experiences that I have been able to share with my children simply because they are with me when things happen. I also love that they are learning, gradually, that sometimes mum is busy and can’t always drop everything unless it is an emergency. I want my daughter to grow up knowing that as a wife and mother that she still has value as an independant woman with interests that don’t necessarily revolve around her family, as much as her family might inspire her.
It’s been a busy couple of weeks for me and I have been feeling a little bit sad and sorry for myself today. Thank you for the reminder that there are other mothers out there making sacrifices and hard choices to balance their dreams for themselves with their dreams for their family.