I have something like 87 mother’s in my life. The obvious one, the one I got with the wedding, the dozen or so I picked up with the neighborhood, some from the ward. And the ones who kept me even after we moved away. I love these women. Do you hear that? I love you ladies!
You offer me support, kind words, frozen lasagnes, and hugs. Some of you offer advice and council. A few of you offer chastening and condemnation. All of you feel strangely compelled to be in my life. It’s almost as if any woman who has already been through what I am currently experiencing wants to ensure my safe passage. Pleasant.
These can be very comforting and happy relationships, seeing me through this season of my life. These can also be very stressful and uncomfortable strains, making me feel inept and incapable of the job. Moms, are you still with me?
Because, you see, we women have terrible memories. All of us. We don’t remember the hard stuff. We don’t remember how we felt when we lost our temper and said unpleasant things to our children. Do you remember that you used to lose your cool? Masked by the passage of time, we tend to remember only the lovely, temperate children that we easily and calmly raised. And so it is, that is the message I receive through these words of encouragement.
“Honey, enjoy every minute of your little children! It’ll be gone so fast!”
“Dear, just love them. They are all such angels.”
“Look how cute! Bag balm smeared all over the bedroom. Your children are so darling!”
“Ooohhh, disposable diapers! How lucky for you to get to change that baby with disposable diapers!”
I must confess that there is one phrase I dread above all others. I don’t know why some of you moms say it to me. I have promised myself never to say it. It is a phrase that offers no practical help, offers no encouragement. It can end in several different ways, but always begins with the words, “Mother’s today. . .”, or even “Well, when I was raising children. . .”
It almost always ends with something hurtful.
“You mother’s today have it so easy!”
“You mother’s today aren’t teaching your children how to work!”
“You mother’s today aren’t having as many children as we did.”
“When I was raising children, we had them milking cows and threshing wheat by the time they were 5!”
“When I was raising children, I would never let my son do that.”
And on and on. Words filled with guilt and pain. Words filled with pride, conflating themselves to an uneasy status of “superior”. I realize you probably did bake more than me, laundered better than me, made better multiplication flash cards, were more patient, never raised your voices, always had a smile on your face, discovered how to safely split atoms, and do it all without ever, ever having a nervous breakdown.
And I am smart enough to realize that I do have it easier than my parent’s had it — in some ways. I may not have to milk cows, till acres of ground, crank the car, and ration sugar, but I have my own set of challenges.
I have to keep pornography out of my house. I have to teach my tiny first grader what a predator is. I have to answer questions about children gunning down children. I have to monitor iPods, manage information flow, and daily battle the full-on assault from Satan trying to break into my front door.
Our challenges may have changed in the last 50 years. Our capacity, as women of God, to meet them has not. Please help me. Please hug me. Please offer me love and encouragement. Please don’t condescend to me. Some other set of mother’s out there in the world let you have your chance to learn. Please let me have mine.
Happy Mother’s Day.
This is wonderfully written, Justine!! Way to go bringing up a great topic. I feel I have been blessed to have women in my life who recognize the unique challenges of the latter-days…women who say,
“Wow, this generation of children that you are helping to raise, is VERY special. They need so much help and assistance, and you as a mother must be so special to be raising them when the world is at its very worst.”
My own mother says things like this to me, among other people. It really boosts my confidence, because, just like you said, we don’t have the hard, physical, toiling, totally backbreaking labor that generations past used to have to do. My mother was a sheep rancher’s daughter. So she knows that life. That’s why I’m especially grateful for the loving words she gives me. She has been through one type of difficult, yet she recognizes the difficulty of raising children in 2007.
When mothers and grandmothers comment about “how easy you mothers today” have it, I just try and tell myself that looking from the outside in, that’s all they can see. They are finished raising kids, and, if they’re like my grandma, they still don’t own a computer and the threat and danger of pornography is TOTALLY abstract.
They have such a small concept of what type of labor mothers are doing these days. I try and tell myself that they just don’t understand. Maybe that’s condescending in it’s own right, I don’t know. But it helps me feel content with my own contribution to my children, and respect for the contributions they gave to theirs.
Justine–It always surprises me when we/they don’t realize that we’re all in this mess together. That motherhood doesn’t change, that it’s challenges of learning how to be a mom and an adult and a wife and person are the same from generation to generation. Thanks for the reminder. I can’t imagine a happier mother’s day than one where all of us can just breathe in and out together, without judgement, without comparison.
ooh, ooh! I have such a great response to this…I am saving it for next week, though.
I am also grateful for all the mothers who encourage me without judging. Great post, Justine.
Yeah and guess what else? We aren’t even done yet. The worst of what we’ll go through is likely still ahead. If we have it “easy” at the moment, let’s be glad, because we know things are going to get worse before they get better. When all is said and done, I doubt anyone will say this generation got off easy!
Texasgal, you’re right! But, as one who is in that “next stage” (teenagers), I would never tell a mother of young children: “Watch out! It gets worse!” That would just be cruel.:-) The truth is, NOTHING is harder than those exhausting, sleep-deprived, no-time-to-yourself, constantly-on-call years of pregnancy, nursing, babies and toddlers. True, there are new and often more serious challenges to face as your kids get older, and the stakes get higher, but I wouldn’t say that it gets “harder.”
It DOES get trickier though. *sigh*
Sharlee, that’s just one of the many reasons I love you so much! I have had so many women say that exact thing to me, and it just feels so exclusionary and hurtful. I love how you are able to succinctly say that all our seasons of life profer different challenges. They’re ALL hard!
But I wouldn’t ever dare tell my sweet arthritic, 90 year old widow neighbor whom I love dearly that she’s just got to suck it up and be tough. All the challenges are tough. All of them present opportunities to grow, and all of them offer all our mother’s opportunities to support.
And every once in a while, I get to mother someone, too. It feels so good to be a part of a continium of support and love.
Oh I fear that I wasn’t clear. I am referring to the “last days” events that are ahead. Although having teenagers may be a cataclysm in itself, hee hee. I think many of us will be involved in actual end-of-days calamities.
I am not really scared, I feel prepared and I know we’ll figure out a way, but I think any who once thought our generation has it easy will soon find that laughable. We’ll probably get extremely hard tests and have to show what we’re made of. So yes, I’m enjoying my “easy” life until then.
I like Sharlee’s use of “tricker” verses “harder.” I am going to use that more often.
Justine you are a brilliant mother, and Happy Mother’s Day to you!
Ha! Oops. Sorry about that, Texasgal. Yes, there *is* something quite apocalyptic about having teenagers.
Justine, I loved this! I have heard plenty of insensitive comments that seem to imply whatever stage of life I’m in is easy. I so want to be the kind of woman who can appreciate and encourage others without seeming out-of-touch or condescending. Nice post.
it’s nice to know that all mothers get these comments; sometimes i think it must be the look on my face as i walk the halls of church (yet again) during sacrament meeting that makes every older passerby say something like, “oh, it goes so fast,” etc.
i’m TRYING to appreciate this time, while they’re little and still think i’m cool and want to hang out with me– and further, i DO fear what the future may hold as my children’s boo-boo’s exceed what can be kissed and made better by a band-aid.
I have had a different experience entirely. I will never forget my dear grandmother, who is now 90, coming over to my house on one crazy day. (What am I thinking? They were all crazy days). I apologized for the perpetual mess. She said, “That’s OK, I remember what it was like.” She did not. Her house was always immaculate and still is. I probably sat there on the sofa amidst the mess and held my baby–I can’t even remember which one. Then she told me how much she regretted growing up in a day when doctors told mothers not to pick up their babies when they cried. And that holding an infant too much would spoil him or her. And a day when mothers did what their doctors told them to do without questioning their white-coated wisdom.
I’m at a bit of an odd place in the road. I look back on the path behind me and I clearly remember thinking I would never see the end of changing diapers, cleaning up spilt milk, not really waking from too many sleepless nights. Now I look not too far forward on the path ahead and have panic attacks because I realize that in just over a year my oldest son will be gone from me for two whole years. No hugs. No bye, I love you Moms. Just an empty chair. I almost can’t breathe.
I know it can be annoying to hear those words “Enjoy it while you can” when you are deep in the middle. But I also know that it’s probably said with regret for days long since passed.
I’m with jennifer b. I hope I just just hold open a door, offer a hand or a hug and not say a word. Just smile and love.