I was raised with the idea that motherhood was a lesser occupation — even that it was the ultimate oppression of women.
I understand why I was taught that. I was the granddaughter of a mini-suffragette (Ducky) and a woman who managed a PhD at Harvard while serving as single mother to three daughters (Grandma). So it was important to them, to their children, and then to me, that women be educated and freed of the bondage of enforced motherhood.
Then I went to an ancient New England prep-school — the same one that Grand Man went to — that had been gender integrated only fifteen years when I got there. I was being educated by women who had fought for the right to be educated themselves.
So I was imbued with the idea that I was better than motherhood. That I was worth more. That I owed it to all of them to be more than just a mom.
And then Along Came Mary. That blue-eyed milksweet girl who gripped my hand when we nursed, whose eyes followed me faithfully wherever I was. Whose screaming little body would settle against me in a minute, no less upset, maybe, but so relieved to be with me.
My career never ever mattered to me in the same way again.
Don’t hate me for saying it. I’m not saying it’s what you should be, or that it’s the only geniune Motherhood around. But for me, it was the truth. All I wanted to be was Mary’s mother — and then Ren’s, and now Eden’s. Thousands of dollars of education rattling around in my head and what I have loved best in all the world isn’t watching a Congressman deliver my speech on the House floor –it is seeing the three of them in a pile of pink — the wide-eyed baby confused and game, Ren devilish, and Mare patient and doting.
Cute Husband and I are barely keeping it together. One way or the other, we’ve been in a state of mild fear since this last kid was born. She seems fine, but our nerves are raw and we want answers and none are forthcoming. Add sleep deprivation and the usual challenges of life and things are tough at La Casa Loony Tunes.
What amazes me is how the kids keep us afloat.
Mare has made a design, for a special club she and Ren are building. It is intricate, amazing, with tunnels and hidden doors and even a menu. (Lunch? — Vanilla milk, cookies, meringues, watermelon, and Tootsie Rolls.) The design is penciled into seven pages of white printer paper.
Ren is in love with language. She found a Handy Manny toy that speaks Espanol to her and she speaks back to it. And she’s the same little shit she’s always been, hiding cookies in her car seat, never taking no for an answer about anything, manipulating complete strangers into giving her things.
And Edeny. Sweet little Three. Nurses with snorting enthusiasm, softest cheek in the world. The beginnings of blonde fuzz on her head. Wide, trusting eyes.
They don’t know that Cute Husband and I are in a little mini-hell. That in my sleepless irrationality I sometimes fight tears for no reason. That Cute Husband would give anything for a pause button so he could just take a day off.
They don’t know because they keep us afloat. Mare with her penciled papers and Renny with her babbling and Eden with those eyes — Oh! those eyes!
This ship can’t go down and fear can’t run our lives and whenever I start to think it might, I look at them and marvel at their hopefulness, their innocence, their unbridled love of life. I want to protect that as much was I want to protect their little bodies.
For Father’s Day, the girls gave Cute Husband a button that said, “Go ask your mother.” He wore it all over town and people laughed and we laughed, too, and I thought how very goddamned lucky we are.
This ship can’t go down and fear can’t run our lives and whenever I start to think it might, I look at them and marvel at their hopefulness, their innocence, their unbridled love of life. I want to protect that as much was I want to protect their little bodies.
I feel the same way about my little boys. Very well said Liz. Thanks for your dedication to this blog. You are a great mother and writer.
You just kept ME afloat, DaMomma. Thank you.
Your words, your life, your girls. They all give me hope that I can be a better mom. Yes, they do.
so nice to hear your thoughts. so often i hear, all that money spent on education, and you spend your mornings painting with pasta noodles? and that chaos when things change, you’re right it is the good in those children that makes it okay. even the bad has a good with kids. just remember that it is you and your husband that has given them the ability to have hopefulness, innocence, and an unbridled love of life. protect those in yourself, and you will do the same with your children.
This past week I finally understood your fear….our baby, and yes she is a 4yr old four-legged pup kind, but no less our child (even though I didn’t birth her) because we don’t have the human kind. And because, as we live in France, she comes everywhere with us…on the train, on holidays, to restaurants, shopping…so she is our baby. And as of Thursday, and an internal eye trauma & 48 hrs of complete helplessness & hell for us, she is totally blind. And my CH & I grieve for the loss of our big brown eyes looking at us and seeing us…her wanton abandon chasing the ball…my eyes well up even as I write. But we had our pity us moment, and now we watch with wonder as she adapts, almost miraculously, forgetting her fear and following her joys, and we try to follow, though it is hard and the journey of her injury far from over…because when she makes us laugh, or cuddles, licks my CH’s ear ’til he howls, or forces us out of misery to go for long country walks out our front door, it is all worth it, every bit.
I thought you were pretty amazing before with your three girls, but now hold a deeper understanding (though never equaled I am aware) of what you and CH must be going through. But happily I read that you see the joy those three beautiful girls bring you…and I smile for you.
Bonne Courage.
Liz, one of the things that has kept me reading here for years, even though the day-to-day of your life is very different from mine, is that you consistently recognize how lucky and blessed you are. It’s inspiring to hear the love in your words and the gratitude for every second of your life, even those that are fraught with pain and stress and uncertainty. How treasured your family must feel. I can’t comprehend how what you’re going through must feel, but I’m here pulling for you and listening as long as you have stories to share.
Like you, I was raised to believe that a good education would set me free. I was on our high school’s first ever girls track team, courtesy of Title IX.
Now I curse to myself whenever I clean a toilet . . . 8 years of higher education, and what do I get? The right to clean my own toilets.
But I’m right with you on the motherhood thing. I never thought it was for me until Baboo arrived. Then it seemed clear to me that this was what all that education was for. I do think my girls are the best thing I’ve ever done.
LOL!! I have many years of education under my belt as well. I probably taught you at that private NE Prep school! But, I gave it all up to be home with #1 and LLB and you know what? I like it like that. I may not ever use my education for cash again, but it’s okay. I’m using it – every day. I know I don’t need an MEd. to clean toilets or do laundry, but I can use it to get the school teachers to do what they are supposed to be doing.
That marketing degree – I use that, too. With the right persuasive argument, you can get the kids to clean their rooms.
That was very well said. It’s amazing how other things just don’t carry the same weight as they used to once you’ve had kids. My favorite thing in the world is hearing my girls giggling in bed when then should be sleeping. I never knew those kinds of joys existed before.
This was a beautiful post and that button for CH sounds awesome. I’m glad you are still finding the joy amidst the chaos:)
Well said.
I have been receiving the message “life is about the journey not the destination … and the journey isn’t always smooth” every lately and this blog is another example. Seize the day and all that good stuff.
Dear brave Liz,
Yup. The “Mommy Club’ has certainly taught me that all mothers are called to be brave and that NOTHING will ever matter as much as my children. I was driven – D_R_I_V_E_N to excel and LOVED it…….. and then came children.
Ahhhh; in an instant the world shifted and- no matter what I do or how good it gets- being a good mom/ wife and having deeply well soulful children matters most..
Thank you for so often writing what is waiting in my heart to say,
Margaret
Oh, man. I so get it. You are in the place I was when we had twins (number 4&5!). It was crazy. But the children held us up. You’re going to be OK. You’re going to get through. Mare, Ren and Eden will make sure of that!
Thank you for such an eloquent post. As usual you took the words right out of my mouth. I too come from a double Ph.D. and J.D. family, private prep school, east coast college, Master’s-degree-getting kinda life. And I never, EVER thought I would want to fight to stay at home with my kids as much as I do. keep on truckin’. Lots of love
Thinking of you and yours a lot these days, Liz. Hang in there.
I hear you. Praying for Sweet Little Three. You’re doing a great job. Wish my babies were still little. It’s a precious, precious time.
You are amazing. All of you.
What a blessing to share your honesty and inspire your readers to do the same. We learn so much from your willingness to tell us your stories with humor and gratitude. They are always fresh and authentic, never canned or trite.
Lovely post. Yes, for me too all the work-related things I once thought were so important just melted away after the birth of my children. We’re bringing forth and raising LIFE for goodness sakes and receive absolutely no ‘education’ to prepare us for it! Equal parts scary and magnificent…with a lot of silliness thrown in.
And wow, I’d love to hear more about Ducky & Grandma. They sound like some amazing women!
I’ve got a different life trajectory – my kids were born to me in my forties, and only now am I serious about a career – but I totally get where you are. My children are more valuable than anything else I can do.
I’m sending you love and prayers for Eden and all of you.
A lovely thoughtful post. Just not exactly where my head/heart is. I love my kids but I still love my work. I am also terrified of life on one income so I keep at it. (rightly so as husband is soon to be laid off…) I am happy that I am able to do both, part time though of course momhood is never really part time. So I can’t join you on the bandwagon but I do really appreciate your words, it makes me understand others in a new way.
Con — my career never mattered to me in the same way again, but I do still love my work. I work more than forty hours a week, but I manage it around the kids instead of going out for the jobs that advance me the fastest.
God bless you for reminding us what’s important. Thank’s Mama!
Thought you would like this: http://warner.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/06/25/insult-and-injury/
The part about career/motherhood really resonates with me, too. I never would have expected to be “at home” with children, but here I am. I’m really happy with my decisions so far, though, and it’s going so quickly…
I know I’m way late in reading this, but this is good. Really good.