Showing up

"Why don't you come on back to the war, let's all get even"

-Leonard Cohen

Being heard has been a defining motivator in my life.  As a mother in her forties, I find it bemusing how invisible I am. 

Yet being invisible has its advantages.  Much can be done when others are not paying attention.

I'm breaking my radio/blog silence because I can't quit you; this is my way of being heard.  Even if only a handful of friends hear me. 

The proof is in the pudding, as they say.  Speaking and listening matter, but in the end, it's the actions that speak for themselves. 

I am determined that my legacy be one of showing up.  I show up to things I value.  And when I can't show up (usually due to finances, or being the mom of twins), I want the people I love to know that I'm there in spirit.

People can throw around all sorts of ideas.  Who wins.  Why they win. Who's right and who's wrong.  In the end, respect is apparent, no matter what is said. 

Respect is showing up.  Love is doing the dishes, voting, marching.  Respect is learning and being open to learning.  Being willing to be wrong.

Words matter.  But in the end, what one does matters more than what one says. 

Free range parenting fail?

The best part of childhood is exploring, getting dirty - experiencing the outdoors in all its splendor.  Not everyone agrees with me.

I live on a small lake.  I love going down to the water with my kids.  We skip stones.  We throw rocks in the water.  It's part of the reason I chose to live here.

There is a dead tree that fell into the lake. My two have been systematically taking it apart.  Tearing off the bark, breaking off the branches.

dead tree 2015

I would have done the same thing when I was ten.  And while growing up in my family was not always easy, my best memories are of exploring the outdoors.  Creating potions with leaves.  Building clubhouses underneath bushes.

Last Tuesday after dinner, we were out breaking branches.  All of a sudden, I hear "Are you going to clean that up?"  I didn't know where the voice was shouting from.  A neighbor was standing on his second floor porch and proceeded to curse us out (literally).  I started gathering the wood chips together.

He shouted things like "we all have to live here.  Now that tree looks like sh*t without its branches." "I've seen you here with your kids.  How can you let your kids do this? You're a (insert expletive here) mother".

We went inside.  I was shaken and upset.  My kids were shaken and upset.

I checked with the leasing office to find out the rules and to report this guy.  Sometimes people are jerks, which is what I told my kids.  If he has an issue with me, then he could have come down to the lake and discussed it with me as an adult.

Part of the injustice of it is that I know I'm a good mom.  Allowing my kids to explore the outdoors (while I'm right there) is part of what makes me a good parent.  Some jerk saying that I'm not a good mom, because he doesn't like what I'm doing is just his opinion, and doesn't make it true.

But part of the reason it upset me is that I work really, really hard to be the best mom, the best person I can be.  One guy's opinion doesn't change that.  And isn't it odd that we can hear twenty positive opinions but the negative one is the one we remember?

What kind of world will we live in when kids are indoors all the time in front of screens?  We already spend too much time in front of screens, consuming.  I haven't read the Nurtureshock or free range parenting books, but I'm familiar with the concept.  We spend so much time protecting our kids, so much time in sanitized situations, children are unprepared to deal with the world as adults.

I will continue to go down to the lake with my kids. We will continue to explore the outdoors.  Maybe we won't take apart the dead tree, but I'm not changing the way that I parent.

All Joy and No Fun review

There are two trendy ways to talk about motherhood, much like the virgin/whore dynamic.  Either one loves and cherishes being a mother every moment - or motherhood is the most difficult, soul-crushing experience  ever.  With that said, it's progress that anyone admits that parenthood is exhausting or difficult - for a while it was heresy to admit in many circles.

In All Joy and No Fun, Senior talks about how perceptions of parenthood have changed radically throughout the years.  It's no surprise that children and teenagers were viewed differently in the 19th century and before.  Children were seen as real assets to the family (in the assistance they could provide to the family)- not the current state where parenthood is a relatively conscious decision in later life.  She writes: 

Children are no longer economic assets, so the only way to balance the books is to assume they are future assets, which requires an awful lot of investment, not to mention faith.  

Not only has our perspective about child-rearing changed - we now have the choice about when and if to have children in the first place.  Then, we're told from a young age that we can be whoever we want to be - whether or not it's actually true.  Senior writes: "Even if our dreams were never realizable, even if they were false from the start, we regret not pursuing them".  

And I agree completely that this is one of the most difficult parts of transitioning from an autonomous adult to a new parent.  I had some idea of what I was in for (being the oldest of six), but not for how much I would lose.  What I lost is something I am gaining back (slowly) as my kids grow older - just simply being able to go out on Friday night and not worry about who would watch the kids and where the money would come from.  

I welcome this notion of the paradox of modern life - that many of us hold ourselves and our lives to a standard that was never possible (given current social norms, class mobility, opportunities, etc.)

I appreciated this book because it talks about social issues and attitudes that many middle-class parents face. In the early days, one can feel  alone. Parenting recommendations (and trends) change all the time - what worked for my grandma (give them cereal at three months) is no longer recommended.  Then there is the constant anxiety that one is not doing enough - not pushing one's children enough, not doing enough activities, etc.  This book helped me remember that losing myself, exhausting myself as a mom doesn't help me OR do my children any favors.  

As I've said before, I love being a mom.  Yes, it's hard work.  It is a high cost/ high reward activity.  

I'm glad that as a society we're drifting away from worshiping at the cult of motherhood - that women can now be honest about the impact of motherhood on their lives.  And my hope is that we can start to think about both parents being responsible for their kids (and how they turn out) - not just automatically blame the mother if something happens (this is the typical media bias).  It is our society/community as a whole who is also responsible.  

And to be aware that women (and parents) need to remember themselves and their mental health throughout the process - parents who are exhausted, not setting boundaries with their kids, not being present, not asking for help - are not doing anyone any favors.  

Birthday parties

I love being a mom.  It's been exhausting and sometimes very stressful - but I've really enjoyed it so far.  I (usually) don't mind the homework, getting ready to leave in the morning - even stand-offs over food.  Well, my life would be easier without the stand-offs over food, but I digress.  I'm happy to continue to introduce new and interesting foods (and particularly healthy foods) for my kids to eat.  It's my job as a parent. 

And my kids are at a good age at the moment.  We can have conversations.  Of course, some of those conversations I was not ready to have just yet. 

But we go out and have adventures.   We go to parks, fairs, museums. 

So aside from cleaning (which is more difficult with young kids), I think that this birthday party thing is really stressful for me.  I think I'm going to give myself permission to put it on hiatus for the next few years.

We just had a birthday party for my kids.  It went well.  Expectations were properly set ahead of time - I was prepared (we didn't have a swim party because of the weather AND because it would be too difficult to coordinate). This is the third fourth birthday party (not just family) that we've had - and each one is stressful for me.  I've had help - I've had multiple adults help each time. Nothing has gone wrong - aside from fewer people attending than I expected.

I have no idea why birthday parties in particular are stressful for me.  I love having my friends over for parties - we host them regularly. 

I suppose it's that I keep going to other children's birthday parties and thinking "I could do this - this wouldn't be too stressful".  And yet - in the end, it ends up being stressful for me.  And I'm not even making a cake from scratch or homemade party favors. 

So this is my confession - I think I need to let this one go.  My kids will be just fine if they only have a few more birthdays or birthday parties with friends.  We still celebrate the birthdays with family - I even sent treats with them to school.  I know it means a lot to them (which is why they are insistent). 

But my time and mental energy are also important.  And it can't be useful to have a mom who is stressed out - living up to other people's expectations.   It's another case of - it's a good idea in theory, but in practice it doesn't work as well.  I'm giving myself permission to say no to this one. 

Fall Break

Maple leaves 2012

For the last two weeks  the kids have been on fall break; otherwise known as a time for rest and rejuvenation for the parents.  We are very fortunate that my in laws have been hanging out with the kids for most of that time (because I couldn't take two weeks off of work).

My husband and I spent the first week eating at restaurants we choose not to go to with the kids.  The restaurants include Peruvian, Belgian and relatively authentic Mexican.  Also doing chores that are much simpler without kids running around. 

I miss my kids, but the past few months have been incredibly, intensely busy.  And this situation is a win/win - my in laws get to spend quality time with their grandchildren, and I get some time off.

I wish all parents had this opportunity - I know quite a few parents who are tired and could use some time to themselves. They need time where they don't have to answer seven billion questions or argue about eating food or going to bed on time.  I love being a mom - but it can be exhausting.

For me, it also helps put things into perspective.  The past seven years have gone by quickly.  Everyone says that, but I've found it's true.  I suspect the next seven years will go by just as quickly - and my kids will be fourteen.  It's just as important (as always) to focus on the present and what I want to teach them now - developing a strong parent/child relationship now.   

First Mother's Day

On my first mother's day, I was still very, very pregnant.  Many doctors induce moms of twins by thirty five weeks.  Not my doctor! I was still on strict bed rest and taking terbutaline (an anti-contraction medication).

To say I was miserable would be an understatement.  I couldn't leave my house.  I couldn't go out to eat.  I couldn't stand up to shower. 

And being pregnant is very uncomfortable.  I think people (particularly men) forget that.  At our birth class, the partners tried on the fake pregnancy belly.  The first comment from each person was "Man, I have to pee!"  It's as if one little part of understanding and empathy dawned on their faces. 

I had sharp back pain; many of my friends who have been pregnant say the same thing.  I could barely sleep (and that's not a problem I normally have). 

So I spent my first mother's day trying to psychically tell my babies and body to start contractions. It didn't work (of course).  They were born two weeks later.

More than a few people praised me later for carrying the twins to thirty eight weeks.  The compliment felt strange, as it was something I had no control over.  I had no control over conceiving twins, no control over carrying them to thirty eight weeks (not really).  I suppose I could have not taken the medication, or snuck out of the house and gone running. 

But I know twin moms (and other moms) who would have done anything to keep their baby/babies gestating just one day longer.  Some spent weeks on magnesium in a hospital bed. 

While each person has some control over the birth, pregnancy and parenthood process, there is so much out of our control.  That's what I like to remember on Mother's Day. 

Mom, Can I...

Sometimes I love overhearing parents talking to their kids. 

The other day we were at the gym, sitting near some vending machines.  Each time I walk past these machines with my kids, we have a conversation about it.  One or both will ask me for something.  There's even an elaborate conversation about it, sometimes with an offer to "pay me back" for whatever they decide to purchase.

Anyway, it was great when I heard a mom walk by with her kids, and I heard the same conversation.  The kids asking (almost whining) for something from the vending machine.  The conversation went like this: "No, not today." 
"Come on Mom, please?" 
"No, come on, let's keep going".  Not angry or frustrated, just a calm response. 

It just feels like reinforcement as a parent, to realize that every parent answers these questions.  Every parent of young children may have these conversations on a daily basis.   

Housecleaning and Guilt

I found myself agreeing with this fmh (and NY Times article) about moms, cleaning and guilt.  In case you're not up for clicking on the links, a majority of moms (both those who work outside and those who work full time in the home) feel guilt about how clean their homes are. 

It's a little shocking to me, considering the century.  Didn't we fight a feminist revolution to free women from the chains of the vacuum cleaner?

I was trying to understand the statistics.  I've mentioned it before, but cleaning is a source of stress for me.  I'm simply not talented in organizing, sorting and cleaning.  Some people are (they must be) - something must explain the 45% of moms who don't feel guilty about the state of their homes. Either they refuse to feel guilty (possible) or they're great at cleaning and multi-tasking.  It makes sense - everyone has different abilities.

With that said, the standard of cleanliness  is very different depending on the person.  What one person considers passable, neat and tidy - another considers cluttered.  In the comments to the feminist mormon housewives thread, someone mentioned underwear in the front room as a standard for cleanliness.  I would assume it would come as no surprise to anyone who knows my family that sometimes we have underwear in the front room.  I can explain the reasons why (which involve people cooperating in getting dressed in the morning watching television).  But it's what works for us.

For the record, this is a good time to mention - please do not drop by my home without calling or texting first.  This is pretty much the reason (among others).  It makes me uncomfortable depending on the state of the home (and whether or not there are clothes in the front room).  So please, call first.

There is still a lot of judgment from women, men, older generations about standards of cleanliness.  If you lift the stove cover, is it clean?  (hint, not in my house at the moment).  Now, I support bug free and food decay free.  But others believe in clean walls, dusted bookshelves, organized piles of books (ha!), floors one can eat off of - that's just not my home.

So I'm glad to hear I'm not alone in this source of stress.  I suspect parents and couples often disagree about how clean is clean, how to clean and the most stress - who is responsible for what. 

Here are my theories why:
1- Time - for me, time is the biggest factor.  Cleaning and sorting takes time.  Time that I do not have.  It's true - I have but other things as a higher priority.  Working out, hiking with my kids, visiting friends, volunteering.  I refuse to spend ALL my free time cleaning. 


2 - Money - So I could pay someone to clean my house, but that doesn't seem completely right either.  Eventually we will probably pay someone to clean - but for the moment, funding is an issue. And the idea of a group of people who clean as a career...it's problematic unless they are given fair wages (what would those be anyway)??

Another money consideration is organizational help (baskets, shelves, buckets, etc.)  There are many options out there - they just cost money.


3 - Environmental considerations - I could rent a dumpster and simply start throwing things into it.  The truth is, a family of four accumulates a lot.  So we struggle with sorting and disposing of - there's always a "will I use this in the next year?"  And then, it never fails that after something is recycled or sold - I need it and need to buy new (or used). 

And there are things (like batteries) that shouldn't be thrown away but recycled.  Not to mention the pc in the basement that needs to be wiped clear of data.


4 - Strategy - I need to determine what I want to save.  From this post, it's something I realized I can actually do in the near future.  I have history notes from college - a ton of cassette tapes...do I need to save those? Am I saving my history notes because my sixth grade history teacher said he used his notes for his lesson plans (hint- the answer is yes)...

Do I need to save those? Can I let them go? What do I want to remember, and what others to remember about me?

I don't mean to complain about cleaning - it's fortunate we have so much stuff to organize.  It's simply a constant battle - and one I'd rather shove under the rug than address on any given day.  I do find it reassuring that I'm not the only one who struggles with it.

The Purse

 I lost a purse when I was six, while I attended the ballet with my brownie troop. I remember this incident distinctly. My sister had made me the purse for Christmas.  I recall being very upset, I cried most of the car ride home. My Mom wasn't on the trip, so it would have been a friend's mom who would have tried to calm me down.

I remember being upset about the $5 I lost in the purse, but also because I was terrified that my sister would be upset and disappointed with me.  In the end, I don't think she was all that upset, I had over-reacted (remember, I was six!). 




Some months ago, I found this journal. It's been at the bottom of a box that I've carted from various locations.  My mother had diligently kept a journal for me (and my siblings, I think) from the time we were babies.  Journal writing is a big part of mormon culture, it's important to share your life with your descendants. 

I opened up the journal to an entry when I would have been the same age as my kids are now.  My Mom mentioned that I had received a purse from my sister for Christmas, and also duly noted that I had attended the ballet with my brownie troop.

The lost purse was notably absent.

My Mom would have written every month, or after a significant event.  She wrote in the first person, as if I were writing my thoughts.  But obviously part of my thoughts were censored, the purse incident was simply too upsetting or negative to be included. 

At this point, I sit in awe, that with four kids, she had the time to write.  She would have been in her late twenties, younger than I am now.

As hard as her life was, I can appreciate that she did try to show me what love she was able to. 

It was nice to be vindicated (I must not have ms-remembered the purse), but also to note the very real occurrence of "only the good news" alive and well in my family from that era.

Ad hominem

I recently read part of "Silent Spring" by Rachel Carson, for book club.  Written back in the early 1960s, her  book began an environmental awareness movement.  People began to care more about chemicals used to kill bugs, and those used in farming.  I don't want to argue her point, because it is worth reading for yourself. 

Here is a link to a pbs program about the book and her journey. 

What shocked me, personally, were the attacks on her person about the book.  She was called a "tree hugger", which was an insult at the time. 

And finally, someone said that she couldn't understand what it meant to be caring and nurturing because she wasn't a mother. This insult still makes me see red just thinking about it.

And usually, when someone attacks the person instead of the argument (ad hominem) it's because they can't refute the argument.  They are arguing from a position of weakness.  The chemical companies couldn't prove that DDT was actually helping birds and their eggs.  So they criticized Rachel Carson because she wasn't a mother, and therefore not capable of making scientific observations about the world we live in, or questioning the prevailing wisdom.

On this mother's day, I would like to point out that there are many ways for everyone to be conscious of their lives and their impact.  There are many ways to help the next generations, to be caring and responsive. 

Transition

So big changes are going on in the cranberry blog household, we now have two income earners!  It's not just me anymore!

What's happened so far is that I have been helping our two wake up, get ready and go to day care.  And they're still going to pre-school - I am spending some time working from home to take them to school and bring them home. I feel fortunate that I can make the changes and adjustments to my work so they can continue at the pre-school they've gone to for three years now. 

I have some thoughts about this endeavor.  I always knew it logically, from talking to my mom/parent friends who work, but now it's even more obvious.  Because even if your child is in full time day care, there is still a ton of work to be done.  Getting kids dressed, out the door, remembering snacks or treats and lunches - it's not a thoughtless process. And we're not a military-like family, I refuse to order people around and yell. 

I am not diminishing the work done with a child full time during the day.  That, too is a lot of work. 

This morning, in particular, I was happy that my kids were able to get out of bed without too much fuss.  I am savoring the little victories.  I know that this is a transition for them, too.  And they are adjusting.  They're enjoying hanging out with kids their age and playing with new toys. 

I have always felt like I had two full time jobs as a parent.  I still do.

I also know that this process was bound to start at some point (the kids start kindergarten in the fall) and that there are/were a lot of different options for our family. It's just putting the plans into practice.

Time to myself

As a working mom, I've struggled to find time to myself. I've often explained motherhood as my second full time job.

After my twins were born, everything began to have an increased priority in my life. That priority usually had four things on it: the twins, my husband, my job and me.

If something didn't fall on that list, it probably didn't get done. And often, my own health and well-being would come after some of those other priorities.

As the kids grew older and more independent, it's been easier to expand that list of priorities. To be other focused. My husband and I made it a priority (from the start) to do things like go out together (without the kids), even if it meant using a babysitter. (As an aside, I've been shocked how controversial this can be, so many people I know refuse to leave their children with someone not related to them. So far, we've been fortunate).

And we also have joined a gym, where there is a place for kids while we work out. It's not ideal, but it's helped me keep my sanity. I've finally found places (like my book club) and been able to focus more on friendships.

One of the great things that's been happening recently is that my husband has taken the kids down to visit his grandfather once a week. That means, when I get home from work, I don't have to do much of anything. It's true, most of the time I still do responsible stuff like yard work and laundry. Or working out. But I don't have to worry about whether or not someone eats their veggies. Or that someone has their shoes before we go to the gym.

I love my kids and I love spending time with them. But spending time (even a small amount of time) on things that I enjoy - spending time without them has been very helpful. I realize how much more I appreciate them.

Absence does make the heart grow fonder, in this instance. I love being a mom, but I love being so many things other than just a mom. I feel so fortunate to be able to have time to myself and time to breathe.

To be even more sappy/idealistic, if I had one wish for every parent, it would be this. That each parent would be able to have time to themselves to explore their own interests, in addition to being a responsible parent. Although I think that was partially the point of Virginia Woolf's "A Room of One's Own"...

The Moment

The first time I felt like a mom was not the first time I felt morning all day sickness. Or the first time I felt one or both of my babies move. After the exhaustion of bed rest and labor, things were a bit surreal and awe-inspiring that first day.

(As an aside, some days I do still pinch myself to remember that yes, I am a mom or yes, I'm a college graduate. Some days it's easier than others).

I just remember the moment that I realized I could do it. My twins were a little over a day old. My husband left the hospital to go home and get a full night's sleep. He had a sinus infection (funny how that type of thing never makes it into shows/films about birth and labor).

So there I am, sitting up in a hospital bed, with both newborns. I hadn't quite gotten the knack of carrying them both around at the same time (that came later)! I had one baby on my lap, and another right beside me (there are rail guards on the bed, in case anyone was nervous about it). I had turned on the tv and was watching bits of some random popular sci-fi movie (I do remember which particular sci-fi movie, if you must know).

It doesn't sound like it would be a bonding moment, but it was.

It was the knowledge that here I was, a mom, with two beautiful healthy babies. And I could do it. And that the three of us would spend lots of time together - having all sorts of adventures.

I finally felt grounded, like no matter how much had changed, some things would still be the same.

Ruth

I just finished watching six feet under on dvd. I loved this series. I realized I would like it as soon as I found out the creator also wrote the script for American Beauty. Also, I heard an clip from the first episode - with Nate and David arguing about proper behavior their father's funeral. I was hooked.

Some of the situations are unnecessarily dramatic - if one thinks about what most people would do in the situation - it would not be breaking dishes and screaming, for example. But it makes for good television.

As an aside, the series is sometimes graphic (language, sex, drug use) - it is not something I would watch with little ones around. To be fair, a friend of mine said my affection for the series told her a lot about me. I think it's quite true. I just love the flawed, screwed up characters. They're so much more interesting than, say, June Cleaver.

If you haven't seen it, I don't think it's giving away too much to explain how many issues that Ruth (the matriarch) has. And understandably so - she's spent her whole life serving her grandmother, then husband and young children. Her adult children have trouble communicating with her, and she has a lot of problems communicating with them.

Sometimes scenes with Ruth hit uncomfortably close to home for me. Scenes when it's clear Ruth has unsaid expectations of a relationship/person and then becomes angry and resentful when those expectations aren't met. It's a reoccurring theme throughout the series.

There's a great scene where Ruth feels overwhelmed caring for her mentally ill husband. She fears that he'll never be independent again, that he's simply a weight that she alone has to bear (and there is clearly some martyrdom going on there). Nate, her son, asks if there's anything he can do. She brushes him off, saying there's nothing he could do.

She mentions she has to go to the grocery store. Nate (and George, her second husband) say they could go to the store, if she would give them a list. She acts frustrated, not wanting to give up the control of going to the store herself. It's clear she doesn't want to allow someone else to take responsibility. She does finally grudgingly give them a list.

Another instance - instead of asking her daughter (Claire) to fold her own laundry - she takes the laundry up to Claire's apartment in a huff and dumps the clothes on Claire's sofa. Ruth is often offended and irritable - but refuses to accept help. She wants it to be done her way, she wants to have the control and the responsibility.

Of course, Ruth also does pretty well, handles some things well and grows throughout the series. She's not hopeless or as powerless as she assumes she is.

But on a more base level, she seems to fit textbook codependency. It's the power of the character, so many people find themselves where she is at.

Since I've been reading more about these types of issues, examining my own expectations, confronting people and asking for help - I'm feeling so much less resentful and negative. I (personally) have been able to enjoy time with my family and loved ones, instead of feeling responsible all the time. I check in, trying to figure out what expectations are, and letting outcomes go.

I just felt like posting about this, as it's a little scary to see your behavior (on steroids) and to realize how offensive it could be.

But it's powerful to realize how far I've come, and that I don't have to live that way. I don't have to buy into the cycle of expectations, manipulation and resentment.

Musings on motherhood

**
A friend of mine asked (on a social networking site) when gay uncle day was going to be.

And rightly so, from my perspective.

In all seriousness, I understand the need for mother and father's day.

But it does seem to ignore all the other influential people in life, in my own life. Who (unfortunately) do not have their own day to be appreciated.

Teachers (and professors) are a great example. I had some of the most amazing teachers growing up. And yes, maybe there is a little brown on my nose, but it's true.

I think fondly of my aunts and uncles over the years, some of whom were also very concerned, caring and challenged me to be a better person.

Then there are some former managers (seriously) and co-workers over the years. People who might not have realized how important they were - but I learned a great deal from them none the less. Then there are also the authors over the years, whose works were incredibly influential.

Now that I think about it, there are too many people to list in one post for me of influences.

It seems short sighted to think that a child's failure or success is solely dependent on their parents. While parents are a huge component, there are so many other people that help along the way.

**I love this website (someecards) - hat tip to Kathryn.

Mothers Who Think tales of real-life parenthood

Edited by Camille Peri and Kate Moses of salon.com

This book of essays is highly recommended for anyone willing to read about the good, the bad and the ugly of motherhood. If you are someone who never wants to hear about the challenges of motherhood - this book is not for you. For example, if you are the type of mom (or you believe all moms should be someone) who makes all her/your own clothes and her kids' clothes, makes bread and all meals from scratch, whose kids wear cloth diapers and never watch television, you probably won't appreciate this book.

I keep meaning to send my copy to chanson or my friend who has a two and a half year old son and a 9 month old. I found short essays a good fit because I could pick them up and put them down easily. My friend the north node sent it to me while I was on bed rest. (I was so frazzled on bed rest and so worn out by anything remotely parenting related I didn't pick it up until the babies were six months old. It was still good).

Typically, I'm not someone who thinks comics are the greatest thing since sliced bread. But this baby blues comic a few weeks ago seemed to sum up my feelings about motherhood.

For me, motherhood has been the toughest job I've ever attempted to do.

And I'm only in the first few minutes of the race.

This book gives the recognition that being a parent is truly a difficult job. It is not an innate knowledge. Many of us have mixed feelings about parenthood - which is not always accepted or a popular perspective.

One poignant essay is by Kate Moses - "I love you both unequally". Obviously, a very contraversial topic - as most parents would like to admit that their heart grows with each child. She talks about how her love for her son is very different from her love for her daughter. She claims that it's a myth to love two people equally - thereby impossible to love both her children equally.

In another of the essays, a mother talks about giving up her daughter for adoption - and how in the end, she was the one who missed out. Not her daughter - who had so many people to love and care for her. One piece describes the close relationship a granddaughter had with her grandmother - when her mother was not able to be a stable influence.

The essays aren't all serious - some are quite amusing. For example, I think I only need to describe the title "No Diapers, No Coffee".

Another essay - Rahna Reiko Rizzuto's "What My Mother Never Told Me" was a humorous perspective of labor. She mentions being converted to drug-free childbirth for the birth of their second child as "...the equivalent of discovering religion in an airport." Some women are able to do the painkiller free childbirth. I have tremendous respect for them. In her essay - during the second or third contraction, she remembered why she had an epidural for the first birth.

I loved being able to pick up the book and put it down at any point. I appreciated the honest, wry point of view of the strong women authors of the essays.

This book is willing to look at motherhood from many angles. I appreciated it as a breath of fresh air.