First question people always ask me, “How many children do you have?”
Second question people always ask me,”What was your mom’s secret to raising children?”
She must’ve had a secret, she had nine babies and didn’t go insane. But if you ask her she’ll reply “I was just sent wonderful spirits!
But I answer, “She was self-centered.”
In a good way. Like, when you are getting safety instructions on a plane and the stewardess explains that if the oxygen masks fall, put the mask on yourself first, and then on the child next to you.
Or I could explain it in another way.
Remember those wood painted signs in kitchens that read “If momma ain’t happy ain’t nobody happy?” (do you have one in your own kitchen?) my mother was a good example of those words (although, she did not have one in her kitchen.)
My mom didn’t sign us up for every lesson, team or passing whim. She didn’t want to spend her life drifting here and there in our suburban. When we expressed real interest in a particular past time she saw to it that we had the training we needed, but it was never obsessive.
We went on vacations and family outings to places that she loved. If she read a book about Antelope Island, we’d pile in the suburban the next Saturday and spend our day on that big brown mound in the middle of the Salt Lake. And it was fascinating to us, because it was mesmerizing to her.
She loved to hold tea parties for us. The tea was delicious sugar water, served with Fig Newtons. No child likes Fig Newtons. But that didn’t stop my mother, who thought them quite divine, from buying them weekly.
We did a lot of shopping, because she loved shopping–but only to stores that carried her size as well. So it was that I became a Nordstrom shoe fanatic. Just last month she bought me two pair for my birthday. And two pair for herself.
There were times of course, when she felt divinely inspired to do that which she didn’t want to do. On my first day of preschool–just down the road–she walked me while pushed my siblings in the stroller. “I need to tell you something,” she said to me very seriously, “I don’t believe in preschool because I want my children to be at home with me. But for some reason I feel that you are supposed to go this year.” I had a lump in my throat, I didn’t want to go either.
I met my best friend that day at preschool. A loyal, supportive best friend who I needed very much in my life.
And 12 years later that friend and I were having a discussion about boyfriend trouble when I suggested to her that she solicit advice from her mom. “I can’t do that.” she protested “She’s not like your mom.”
She always talked me in to handmade invitations because store bought ones were so unoriginal. We had Brick Oven pizza because any other pizza in her mind was lesser. She didn’t “do” wedding receptions because they were too formal, so we had dinner parties. And when she became a grandma she insisted that we called her “Umi” which is mother in Arabic and she loves anything Arabian.
In short, my mother survived because she was smart enough to see that a little bit of quiet time for her, made for a lot of personal time for us. If she fed herself, she would have enough energy to feed us. Her sacrifice came from giving up pride in the holy mother quest. And she didn’t wear motherhood like it was Sainthood–she wore it like a smart pair of Nine West shoes.
There is something to be said about a bunch of siblings that come out of a happy home. We knew what it was like to please our mother, to make her laugh, sing and dance. In turn, we all turned out alright. Not perfect, but happy.
And that, I suppose, is her secret.
You have just confirmed something I believe to my very core.
cjane, I love you.
This was wonderfully put. Thanks so much for sharing.
I have been thinking of this very thing lately. Not of your mother, specifically, but of mothers in general. I really believe that a mother who gives every ounce of herself to her children will very quickly run out of things to give. I have a friend who says she isn’t ready to have kids because she isn’t ready to give up her “regular” life. I think children should be incorporated into our lives and not become a substitute for it. My kids eat at our favorite restaurants and are some of the most healthy, adventurous eaters you will ever meet because of it. They travel and deal with the time change, strange beds, etc. They love babysitters and definitely know when Mama needs her quiet time. We live our lives and they have very happily (and easily) become the most joyous part of it.
Thanks for sharing your mom’s secret. I hope it becomes all of ours.
“Her sacrifice came from giving up pride in the holy mother quest.”
cjane, you just changed my life.
Great post! This was just what I needed to hear right now. I needed “a secret”.
Thank you. I want to be more like your mom.
Amen, sister! One of the keys to my sanity after my first child was born was joining a mom’s hiking group. It was a fantastic outlet for me to continue with one of my passions and we still enjoy sharing it today.
Just this past week I was having a period of self evaluation about a mothering issue. It had to do with my disappointment that my daughter doesn’t want to take dance class anymore. I’m opposed to forcing extra activities on them, so after her spring recital, she’s done.
I took a closer look at those feelings and decided maybe I should take a ballet class instead of putting that pressure on her. (There was a little bit of projection going on). So, three cheers for adult community ed. classes. I start my adult ballet class next month!
Thanks for sharing your mom’s secret. Wonderful as always.
I heart your mom. And I love the way you describe your life with her. What a wonderful way to grow up.
You’re mom is awesome! I love hearing the fun stories of your family. Thanks for sharing!
Dad loves Fig Newtons too. Hmm. HMMMMMM.
Something in that water.
Courtney, what a lovely tribute! I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting your Mom, but she certainly raised a lovely daughter. I too have been blessed by such a woman, and hope to someday honor by becoming a mother just like her….
Thank you! And happy belated birthday C Jane’s Mommy!
Grrrrrreat tribute to a wonderfully gifted mother. I can now stop feeling guilty for not having my kids involved in every sport/activity out there!
I’m so glad to know that I wasn’t the only one in the whole wide world that didn’t like Fig Newtons. UGH!
I love that your mother explained her impression that you needed to attend preschool.
I have yet (in my small sphere) to meet another mother who desires her children to be with her as much as possible…until school starts.
I’ve never been a proponent of preschool…not because I believe it’s inherently evil (I know there is much good that can be taught therein…), I just don’t want my little ones away from me.
I love knowing that your mother shares that mindset with me…and I would gain much, I am sure, from making her acquaintance.
Thanks for giving us a glimpse into your life with her…and for sharing the important lessons she taught you.
Beautiful! Thank you for sharing. I hope I can grow up to be that kind of mom.
This was electrifying for me: “Her sacrifice came from giving up pride in the holy mother quest. And she didn’t wear motherhood like it was Sainthood–she wore it like a smart pair of Nine West shoes.”
Oh how subtly we can be deceived! Your mom is wise.
I will be pondering this post for a while.
Thank you, CJane. Thank you.
I don’t know. Your mom sounds wonderful. My fear is not that I’ll be too giving, because most moms I know err on the side of being selfish manipulative meanies. Of course, things are different here in California. Has anyone read a book called “Woman First, Family Always”?
What a fabulous post! A very wise counselor told me that analogy once (about the oxygen masks). And the whole Nordstrom thing makes me think of my mom. This post really made me more excited to be a mother. Quite the feat these days, when I am feeling terrified of the possibly soon prospect.
Sometimes I feel like a selfish mom (I DO walk a fine line sometimes–is it selfish that I am raising my kids, for example, in a siesta culture when we live in Montana? Cause Mama needs her Quiet Time from 2-4pm, people), because I do a lot of the things your mom does/did, and it looks selfish from the outside to some of the super-holy-mother variety. But all I know is I have to do what works for us. It’s not your regular family life, but it’s good. I’m doing my best. And I’ll be THRILLED if my kids turn out as happy and creative as your family appears to be. Thanks for giving me a little boost of confidence!
The idea that I’ve had to let wash over myself and absorb into my whole being is that we don’t all have to be the same to be successful parents. I don’t have to be like my neighbor who has a fresh, hot loaf of bread on the table for breakfast every morning — and she doesn’t have to be like me!
I know there are lots of us out there who are killing ourselves un-necessarily, but there are also some women out there who just really like to bake! And I’m ok not being one of them. I just don’t think it’s fair of me to tell my baking friend that she’s doing it wrong. The trick for me is to be at peace being a “I-hide-Ben-&-Jerry’s-from-you-because-I-love-you” mom, and not worry about my friends who are lactose intolerant.
i love it. all of it. i’m going to print this one out to remember later. thanks my friend!!
I agree with everyone that CJane is a wise woman raised by a wonderful mom. I also agree with Salma, that back when women had 9 children, giving too much was definitely a problem. But today, really, how many moms do you know who feel guilty about making their kids take naps or saying no to lessons or “only” having four kids? I think our culture has submerged us in the idea that we need to take care of ourselves. Most moms are awesome, perfect, like all of you guys (taking time for yourself to read segullah, but not people.com) But for me (and at least Salma) its the not giving enough to my not 9, but 2 kids that tempts me. In fact, I’m going to go ceck out people.com right now, then go to the gym. See?
so timely– i just read a book last night called “i was a good mom before i had kids,” that gives out the call for women to stop feeling guilty and be easier on themselves. i needed that as i needed this post: a good reminder on mommy as a separate “self” too.
and i remember when preschool was totally optional when we were kids– now it’s standard to attend two years of preschool! (which has always been upsetting to me… here, i birthed you and gave you life; now get out!) i have a hard time with all the things our kids are supposed to do and the subsequent oddity we’re observed as if said child is not in millions of activities. i’m officially the bad mom in the neighborhood this week because i let my oldest (a mere six) quit dance before her spring recitals. she was unhappy and i was sick of fighting about it; and if it was a matter of twirling in a tu-tu or being at home with me and her felt pens, i was excited to choose the latter.
and so i endure the looks of my neighbors. i’m happy with my decision.
great post! thank you!
I just have to know, Brooke, do your neighbors REALLY look at you or think you are a bad mom for taking your baby out of dance? Maybe I’m clueless, but I just can’t picture anyone looking at you dissapprovingly for that.
As a new mum struggling to figure this whole thing out, I loved this post!
Sam I think you are very perceptive…and for me the greater temptation is often not to sacrifice too much of myself on the altar of motherhood, but to do just the opposite and not give enough to my child. I think finding that balance, (chiche as that may sound,) is so tricky and all important. However, I do love what Cjane points out here–that you can be a good, devoted, loving mother and a happy, filled, self-aware person. At the same time.
And I loved what you said about giving up pride in the Holy Motherhood quest. I’m still mulling that one over–trying to figure out what that needs to mean for me in my mothering. Thanks, Cjane. and thanks Sister Clark.
sam: honestly! i have two neighbors that told me they wouldn’t let their daughters “quit.” it’s not a point of contention or anything, but it also hasn’t been a decision left unquestioned by many-a-mom. and that pressure made me struggle for a few weeks before i let her quit. in the end, we did what was right for us. and at this point, we agree to disagree: i think they’re crazy for being so gung-ho with classes; they think i’m crazy for not.
further, there’s one less mommy for carpool. ouch.
I’ll take “whole” over “holy” any day. Your mom is my kind of Saint.
That was as well-written as it was (is) well-lived. I am saving you and Umi to PDF for further study!
xo
Thanks, Brooke. Woah. I did remember, after I asked that, that when I pulled my four year old out of preschool the teacher said “She wont go to kindergarten if you let her quit” She went to kindergarten. Anyway, good job doing what you thought was best.
Beautiful, wonderful writing.
Such a tribute.
that was beautiful. much like my mother. thanks for sharing that.
I have been trying to figure out the secret to raising confident, independent girls. Thanks for answering a question I never asked outloud.