There is no harsher critic of my parenting than the woman standing in the mirror. She looks askance at the organic squeeze pouches of fruit that I bought for our upcoming trip. She snickers at the frazzled mom who watches the secondspainfully pass leading up to Daniel's arrival...anxious to push her into her father's arms and hide in the bathroom alone. She purses her lips as I text message or check my facebook app while quickly shoving toys towards Nora's reaching hands. She grimaces when I put Noodle in a stroller and push her down the sidewalk...silently...unable to speak out of exhaustion...bypassing the opportunity for German banter and enthusiastic descriptions of varying tree barks and vibrancy of blooming flowers.
I read this today in my "Natural Life" magazine and it resonated with me:
Meet Perfect Mama
I'm sure many of you know Perfect Mama - she gives birth with joy and ease, preferably at home and possibly unassisted. She breastfeeds responsibly and for as long as her child needs - even through subsequent pregnancies and babies. She uses cloth diapers, or even better, no diapers at all because she practices elimination communication. She eats only organic foods and is perhaps vegetarian or vegan. She is always happy and creative and ready to play. She homeschools. She stays home or she effortlessly balances fulfilling work with a baby on her hip. She babywears and co-sleeps and grows her own food. She is "green" in her life and buying habits. She does not circumcise and she never forgets to boycott Nestle. Her family does not watch TV. She uses gentle, patient, loving discipline - no snapping or snarling. She never yells or gets angry and she never, never feels resentful or irritable.
I see in myself, in my friends, and in online communities, a ready tendency to judge or evaluate other mothers based on this inner checklist of good, "natural" mothering behaviors/practices, rather than seeing them as who and how they really are. There is also a tendency to hide the "ugly" parts of ourselves or the parts that don't conform to the checklist.
... I am painfully aware - mindful - that, although I always love my children, I do not love every single moment I spend with them. It hurts to recognize and confess that I do not always cherish and adore being a mother. When I look past all the "right" answers on the checklist, guess what is left? Just me. For better or for worse.
I do warmly embrace nearly all of the "Perfect Mama" parenting choices above. I would add in a fervent desire to limit Nora's consumerism and need to "keep up with the Disney" trends in toys and dress and movies. Perhaps that is already implied by "green living." But the fact is, I like some toys. We already predict we may cave and show DVD's when traveling long distances (and that idea of "long" might change with how much she loves it).
Although Nora may be thrilled with only empty paper towel rolls and a whisk, I love her cloth owl, her stand-up plastic lawnmower, her Busy Zoo activity center. I also feed her canned pinto beans, buy disposable diapers for our upcoming trip, stuff her with Puffs and Mum-Mums for snacks and hand her plastic sippy cups with anti-spill spouts.
Hmmm...can I be content with my mothering choices, even where I fall short (very short) in some "natural" areas? Ignore or politely smile at those who question my approach (on the green and mainstream sides), while also encouraging and accepting advice from those who mean the best?
I hope so. I aim to try. The longer I mother, the less sensitive I am to advice. It feels less like a sting and more like a curious nudge. It is only recently that my own mother's kind words, who is the preeminent example of creative, loving, nurturing, natural parenting, can offer suggestions without my pride feeling bruised. It has something to do with expectation. "Mother" was, after all, the role I was destined for. This gig was what I wanted, pined for, talked about, worked toward for years. As early as I can remember, I wanted to be a mom. It was the only goal that never waivered...even once...in my life.
So, now that I am a mom, how can there be any days that I don't simply revel and celebrate in the gratitude and fortune of my life? How can I wish - passionately - for a break, an hour, an afternoon AWAY from my child? I couldn't figure out how to rectify these desires with that little girl who always wanted to be a mom.
Nora sleeps in a crib (GASP). We let her cry it out (double GASP). We use firm voices and "no" already. In some manner we will punish and reward. We want Nora to respect us with a bit of fear mixed in. This puts us at odds with the "natural" parents. Making for some awkward exchanges at playdates and family gatherings.
Hypocrisy factor: her crying NEVER feels good or "right" and I wish that she could snuggle between us all night
We prefer no screen access (tv, movies, computers, phones). We would rather her not have processed foods, fast food, sugar, hormone/antibiotic meat. We want used toys, even less plastic toys, and no princess/girlie paraphernalia. This labels us as "pains in the ass" with some friends and family members.
Hypocrisy factor: I could spend hours watching "Real Housewives of New York" or "The Bachelorette." My eyes burn from Facebook. I love greasy fast-food. I quit being a vegetarian. I am passionate about my artificialy-sweetened soda. I used to adore pink (before being chased by older boys and called a "pink pig"). I maximize any opportunity to eat sugary sweets.
I sit here having just finished a microwaved Trader Joe's frozen lunch. Daydreaming about frozen yogurt sprinkled in candy bars. NPR news hums in the background. A barely read Los Angeles Times is scattered across the table. The monitor glows green as Nora sleeps. I could do so many things. The "shoulds" start to bullet list in my mind.
I should:
- make some steamed food for Nora
- write a letter, a real handwritten letter, to my sister-in-law because I miss her and love writing to her
- work on Nora's 1 year montage of video and pictures (in time for her birthday party)
- create paper invitations for her party
- fold the cloth diapers and laundry tossed on the bed
- find recipes for the week so that my grocery list makes sense
- read online German articles
- finish reading the paper
...but instead...I sit here. Excited to post pictures from a luscious morning visit from Daniela and her little boy. Shane's boyish footsteps and antics mesmerized Nora and had me grinning. Sitting on the hardwood floor across from Daniela, each of us watching our baby reach for the other baby's shirts, toys, and hair. Diverting their chubby hands from eye sockets...encouraging sharing...popping blueberries and rice crackers into their screeching mouths as we try and finish one thought.
I relished the adult conversation. My mind craving education speak...Daniela's probably wishing to avoid it.
...ah, but there's a fake cough coming across the monitor. Someone wants me to scoop her up, unzip her sleepsack, and take her outside for a walk.
A walk in which I might talk to her about the flowers AND check my facebook in the shade of a passing tree...but along the way I'll also nibble on her cheeks and kiss her forehead.
For better or for worse, I'm Noodle's mama. The one she got.
...and now she's growling...
