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August 6, 2006
Frankly, My Dear . . .
. . . and, well, you know the rest.
Mommy circles are all a-twitter at Helen Kirwan-Taylor’s recent column, in which she proudly proclaimed, “Sorry, but my children bore me to death!”
That was actually the name of her column. Although I’m assuming that she was being figurative, and not literal, since she’s certainly alive enough to write columns about how annoying she finds her kids.
In the piece, Kirwan-Taylor went on to discuss how she’ll do just about anything not to have to spend time with her children – the nanny is sent in her place to parties and play dates, her children have learned not to ask to her to take them to the park – and furthermore, believes that she’s brave to admit how little she wants to do with her offspring.
And to this I can only say: yawn. But it’s not Sam I find boring, it’s the constant naval gazing that chicks like Kirwan-Taylor love to engage in.
Is being a mom boring? Sure, sometimes. And sometimes it’s fun, and sometimes it makes your heart soar, and sometimes it makes you want to bang your head against the wall.
But really, what job isn’t boring at times? Being a writer is a dream job for me, but don’t even get me started on how much I loathe line edits.
I just sent off my latest manuscript, THE MOMMY WARS, to my agent, and after congratulating me, George looked a bit gloomy.
“I suppose this means that you’ll be revising it soon,” he said.
“Yeah, probably,” I said. That’s how it usually works. The book becomes like a boomerang – every time I think I’m done with it, and send it off, back it returns with various suggestions for improvement. “But probably not for a few weeks. Why?”
“Because,” George said darkly, “you always get moody when you’re doing revisions.”
Which is husband-speak for saying that I turn into the Bitch Queen From Hell while editing. And while I’ll admit I do tend to get a tad bit grouchy (“If I have to read this one more time, I swear to GOD, I will THROW UP!”), I do try to keep in mind that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and soon I’ll have the old manuscript back off my desk, and I’ll be able to happily turn my attention back to writing the new one, which I always very much enjoy.
So every job has its drawbacks, and motherhood is no exception. There are good days and bad days, and everything in between. But the thing about motherhood is this . . . it’s entirely voluntary. If you don’t want kids, you don’t have to have them. So if the idea of schlepping around a diaper bag, and going to the park, and reading the same picture book four hundred times in a row, and keeping the freezer stocked with chicken fingers makes you want to throw yourself off a bridge . . . well, then don’t have kids. It’s certainly the cheaper option, considering what a pair of Stride-Rites go for these days.
I never thought I wanted kids when I was younger. But now that I have one – and took a very long, painful, bumpy road to get him here – I have to say: I love being a mom. In fact, I fell helplessly in love with Sam long before he was born. And, on balance, a sticky kiss and a baby cuddle are ample payment for enduring the tedium of yet another round of Brown Bear, Brown Bear.
That’s not to say there aren’t days when I would cheerfully stick a stamp on Sam and mail him off to his grandmother, or that I don’t enjoy the occasional leisurely afternoon to myself, or that having our umpteenth conversation about how stinky poos go in the potty makes me want to run out of the room screaming like a mad thing..
But on the hard days, I try to stay philosophical. The past three years have gone by in the blink of an eye. In another blink of the eye, we’re going to reach the day when Sam isn’t going to want to snuggle on the sofa with me, or pester me to play trains with him, or hang out with me at all. So I try to focus on not missing out on those small-but-important moments before they’re gone. And if that means a little boredom now and again, so be it.
Posted by Whitney at 7:17 AM | Comments (8)
Comments
You do right to make the most of Sam, Whitney. They grow up so quickly, and one day they leave home for college, and, oh, I'm tearing up in advance of Teenager #1 heading back to college in a month's time...
And I fondly recall Teenager #2's first "book" (written age 6) proudly entitled Baked Bean Man, in which our tomato sauce clad hero saves the world, of course. I still have it.
Posted by: Michelle C at August 6, 2006 8:47 AM
Oh, Michelle, I can’t even imagine! Sam’s starting preschool next week, and I’m already getting weepy, and saying things like, “First it’s preschool, and next thing we know, he’ll be going to college! Sniff, sniff.”
Of course, the preschool’s assurances that they’ll help me get me Sam potty trained has cushioned the blow somewhat.
Posted by: Whitney ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.literarychicks.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at August 6, 2006 10:55 AM
Amen, Whitney! Things One and Two routinely drive me absolutely insane, but I wouldn't trade the time I've had with them for anything. Also (WARNING! WARNING! EILEEN IS ABOUT TO CLIMB UP ON HER SOAPBOX!!!), it makes me sad when women aren't supportive of each other's choices. I mean, wasn't that what the women's movement was all about? If you want to be a stay-at-home mom, go for it! If it makes you happy, do it! If you don't, well that's super, too. The point is, you get to choose what's right for you and your kids.
Since my kids have been born, I've worked full-time, I've stayed home full-time and I've worked part-time. Working part-time is the most satisfying for me emotionally so it's what I do. I was too frazzled to enjoy anything when I worked full-time and bored out of my tree when I stayed home full-time. For me, having the mental stimulation of a job made the time with my kids that much sweeter and more fun.
Was it best for my kids? Despite the fact that Thing One was bitten by nearly every child in the two-year-old room at the daycare center, yes, I think so because they have a happy Mommy who enjoys them.
Eileen
Posted by: Eileen at August 6, 2006 12:03 PM
I’m certainly not criticizing the author for wanting to have a life and career outside of her family . . . it’s more the intolerable self-centeredness of her position. It’s as though she views her children as existing for no other reason than to entertain her, and as soon as they fail to do that, she dismisses them. And then she goes on and claims that she’s brave to admit to this narcissism.
Posted by: Whitney at August 6, 2006 2:45 PM
Actually, Whitney, I think she's the intolerant one, not you. I got the distinct impression that she thinks those of us who enjoy our children are mindless dolts who have nothing more in our heads than endless verses of "The Wheels on the Bus."
Eileen
Posted by: Eileen at August 6, 2006 6:50 PM
I love my girls very much, but I would probably go stark raving mad if I had to stay home with them every day. I wish I could just work part-time--that would be ideal, but unfortunately I can't afford that... They have been pretty good on this trip, but today they kept sniping at each other and I finally had to threaten to leave them at my girlfriend's house the next time she and I decided to go somewhere to get them to stop! Since there isn't anything to do there except watch TV they decided it would be in their best interest to behave!! And yes, time flies. My youngest just turned 13!! College is literally right around the corner. I am SO not ready for this!!
Posted by: Sheri at August 7, 2006 12:47 AM
Take heart, Whitney! Kidlet just turned 7 and he still likes to cuddle and snuggle. I *always* find the time if he wants a snuggle because I keep wondering how much longer it will be before he refuses such activities. And just yesterday he told me that I was the "best mommy that a kid could ever want to have."
Those moments make up for all the frustration...
Posted by: Dia at August 7, 2006 4:36 PM
Polar Bear, Polar Bear, what do you hear??....
Again!!????
Wha?? Again!!? That's the fifth t'.....
Polar Bear Polar Bear, what do you hear....
Wouldn't trade it for the world. ;)
Posted by: Summer at August 12, 2006 11:12 PM
