Freedom

I had always expected that I'd be the consummate stay at home mom, just like my mother had been before me. She was the Camp Fire girl leader, room mother, cookie baker, field trip chaperone, always there mom, and as a young girl I had expected to follow in her footsteps. What I hadn't counted on, though, was that unlike my mother, who had her kids very young, I had a career before kids, a career that I was good at and I loved, where I was valued for my contributions. By the time my maternity leave with Trout was over, I recognized that staying home was not for me, and I was grateful to get back to my work.

I worked part time outside of the home at varying levels of effort until Sunny was almost one. It was a good balance - I spent enough time away from my kids using other parts of my brain and cultivating other skills that I was a better mom when I was with them, and I didn't spend so much time away from them that I pined for them or felt like someone else was raising them. One of the disadvantages of baby bunching, though, especially when you went into a humanities field like I did, is that day care costs are very high, and the amount that I paid for daycare just about negated the salary I earned. When my day care situation changed and I lost my provider, it made sense for me and my family if I stayed home with the kids.

I worried about it. I knew I didn't deal well with isolation, and I had spent enough time at home that I knew just how isolating it was. I struggled. I struggled with the isolation. I struggled with the drudgery of housework, which I didn't like anyway, but was compounded by the demands of trying to manage a house at the same time as caring for three and then four small people who mess things up faster than I can clean them. I struggled with not having anyone to talk to over the age of 5. Of course I had the option of classes, and playgroups, but the local groups I looked into didn't have anyone with as many kids as I had, and I felt like no one understood what I was going through. I also still lacked the confidence that I could handle taking all the kids out in public by myself - my biggest fear was one kid bolting across a busy parking lot or street because they were playing with me while I struggled to get their baby sister out of the car, or the two preschoolers running off in opposite directions with me bogged down by the baby and unable to give chase effectively. It was a rough time, and it took me longer with each subsequent kid we added to the mix to find my groove, and I'm sure it contributed to the postpartum depression I suffered after Nemo was born. For years, I've fought to retain some part of my identity, some part of Mary, apart from being a mother. It's been various things over the years, now it's mostly blogging, but there have been more times than I'd like that I've partially resented my kids, my wonderful, amazing kids who didn't ask to be born, because I've had to sacrifice so much for them. Then the guilt descended like a curtain, and I'd spiral deeper into depression.

In the article I read about the bone lengthening surgery that a young girl with dwarfism chose to undergo, I came across a quote by Sylvia Boorstein that reads "There are only two possible responses to every challenge -- balanced acceptance or embittered resistence. Acceptance is freedom. Resistance is suffering. We all know this." This has given me pause and has been rattling around in my brain ever since.

My mother in law has Parkinson's disease (I know it seems like I switched gears totally, but work with me here people), and one of the issues that she has dealing with it and we have dealing with her is that she won't accept it as her new reality. She will continually apologize for not being able to do things that she used to be able to do, for falling all the time, for taking longer to do just about everything, and it drives us crazy. She'll say "I'm fighting this, I'm fighting it," and while I admire the spirit, it's actually a hindrance if she does fight it, because she won't accept her limitations. Parkinson's is not something you can get better from, like cancer. Fighting it does no good. Insisting on using two canes to walk instead of a walker or a wheelchair because you don't want to admit you need the help you do, and then falling and injuring yourself isn't a positive thing, because then it actually makes it more painful for you and more difficult for those who need to take care of you. We've told her this. We've never had a problem because she can't do what she used to be able to do, or because it takes her so long to do things, we just adjust to her needs and capabilities. It's no big deal to us.

I've been thinking about the quote in relation to my MIL, that if she'd just accept her condition and move on, make adjustments as needed, she'd have a better quality of life than she does lamenting what she can't do. And I've been reflecting on myself and on how it relates to my life.

I've been resisting my new reality. The Mary that I've been trying so hard to hold on to, she doesn't exist anymore. She's changed, grown, morphed into someone else. And just because I am a mother now does not mean that I've lost Mary. I spent so much time rebelling against staying home, against the view held by much of society that I am a second class citizen, that I all too often failed to see the wonder in being here.

About a month ago, I decided it was within my power to change. So I stopped resisting. I stopped being afraid to take all four kids out by myself. I stopped rebelling against the dishes and just started doing them more often. I stopped trying to find ways to escape under the guise of holding on to a piece of myself and just focused, dedicated myself to being the best Mary I can be under my new reality. I am a mother to four wonderful, amazing kids. I have a loving husband who has a great job in a secure field that makes it so that I can stay home. So I can be here for the lost teeth, the spelling triumphs and sorrows, the broken hearts, the first trips to the dentist and the theatre, the boo boos, the kisses, the love. I get to be here for that. So it comes with the price tag of a few more dishes, a lot more laundry, a lot less sleep, and a little less time for myself (hence the infrequent posting). I don't know how people like Carmen and Chris do it, find the time to do everything they do and maintain their blogs at the same time, but I really can't worry about it. I do what I can do. I am a mother. I am a writer. I am a wife. I am a friend. I am a daughter. I am still Mary. I still like heavy metal and hard rock and jazz and classical music, I still know how to let loose and have fun in my own way, and while I may not play my clarinet anymore, I've not forgotten how. I just also now see the wonder in sharing those things with my kids. And even when I go back to work, I am not the same woman, the same worker as I was before I had my kids, or even before I had the chance to stay home with them. I'm me, but a different me. I will be no less an asset to whoever I work for than I was before I had kids.

Acceptance is freedom.

Comments

[hokgardner]

THank you. I needed to read just such a post this morning. I'm still working to accept my new reality, and it's tough going.

[Rocky]

Put A BIG Red Star on your Calander... You have just found a momentious day.. When you reach a realization like you just have, it is a special landmark in your life so, remember it. Many never get there.

[jodifur]

Amazing, amazing post. I'm a little surprised b/c you always seems so put together and in control when I see you.

It's so hard to let go isn't it?

[bzymom13]

Amazing - I love it. Congrats to you for accepting, I am still trying...I am getting there. This post just reminds me that I need to try a little harder :)

[FabulousMissS]

Oh Mary girl... this really spoke to me on several fronts. I had no idea you were going through such an evolution right now. I am so proud of you for accepting and taking on the challenge. I know you can do it -- you are an AMAZING mother --- and a great friend (thank you for welcoming me, and sharing with me so much - you have made my first year of transition much easier). I'm so happy for you that this acceptance has allowed you to enjoy each moment more.
Me? I'm trying to let the dirty dishes sit for a few more minutes so I can enjoy a few more minutes of those special smiles and moments.

[jane]

Hi, this is my first visit to your blog. Nice post!

[Anita]

Mary,

I have lurked on your blog for a while and even commented a time or two.

I have been struggling with the same things lately and having a really hard time with lots of issues in my life.

I have a 28 month old, a 16 month old and am 4 1/2 months along with #3...all planned. I hate housework and my house is a disaster. I feel I'm doing a great job as a mom, but am a total failure at housework and sometimes at being a wife.

Thanks so much for this post. I have to start working on acceptance myself.

[Fish-Flopper]

I really enjoyed reading this one...