Motherhood: The New Oppression

I recently read an article called "Motherhood: The new oppression" by Margaret Wente. You know, there's nothing more dull and unoriginal than a Boomer whinging about how much better things were back in her day.

But by modern standards [my mother] was a mediocre parent. She smoked. She drank. She drove us around without seatbelts, while she smoked. ... Now we know better. The obligations of responsible mothering have been ratcheted way up. They start before conception, when you must swear off alcohol and tobacco so as not to harm your hypothetical embryo. Abstinence from all things, including ice cream (you can’t gain too much weight!) extends through pregnancy. Natural childbirth? Of course, preferably at home. Epidurals are for losers.

Sure, Peggy. Let's all go back to the good ol' days when smoking was good for you, nobody's life had ever been saved by a seatbelt, everyone sprayed DDT in their backyards and a good wife and mother always had a martini in one hand and Father's slippers in the other when he got home from work... and a bottle of Valium in her flowered apron pocket. Ah, nostalgia!

I have to agree, though. Man, it was oppressive to quit drinking for nine months! I don't know how I lived like that! The cold sweats, the shakes... it was like detoxing in prison, lordy be! And smoking... I quit smoking 3 years before I got pregnant because it's, ya know, bad for you. But ironically, when I got pregnant, the first thing I wanted to do was light up a fag, dude. However, The Man (The Woman?) stood in my way, tsk-tsking about birth defects and junk. Like being in freaking chains, I tell ya.

Mothers are our own worst critics; we don't really give a crap what the other mothers are doing, we worry about what we should be doing. And we usually end up choosing whatever works. We don't take other mothers out into the street and shoot them for letting their kids leave the house without sunscreen. Who has the time? I have yet to be chastised by anyone for buying disposable diapers. Neither is there a Cloth Diaper Mommy of the Year Award, and I have never met a CD'ing mother who expects to win one. Yes, we plan to make our own baby food... because we're cheap and pre-packaged baby food is a scam. We can mash up what we eat and feed it to the baby; isn't that just being savvy? If you think we're all trying to live up to this laughably high standard, you're wrong. We're just doing what makes sense and works for our families. If the fact that we are educated about the products we buy bothers you, I'm guessing your retirement portfolio contains a lot of Monsanto stock or something. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Heck, I enjoy a worm-free apple as much as the next guy.

By the way, Peg, don't you think your own mother had some impossibly high standards to live up to in her day? In your mother's day, a "good" mom would never dream of working outside the home. She would never feed her family frozen dinners or pre-packaged cookies. She would always be caught up on the laundry, ironing and dishwashing. She would be a skilled seamstress and sew the latest fashionable outfits for herself and her children. The list goes on and on. Did your mother live up to all these standards? If she was a reasonably happy human being -- and it sounds like she was -- she probably didn't. What makes you think it's any different now just because the criteria for "good mom" have changed? We all still "cheat." It's mostly the people looking at motherhood from the outside who think we're all killing ourselves to live up to this impossible standard. Trust me, we're not all like that. Most of us are like your mom.

So, thanks for worrying about me, but I don't feel oppressed, sorry. Yes, I gave birth without an epidural... because I wanted to. I also breastfeed because I want to, it's free and I'm too lazy to mix formula. I also use disposables because I want to. Oops, I'm a bad mom! Except, nobody has said this to me, so I'm not sure why you're worried about it.

I wish I could say I don't know whether my baby's bottles have BPA, but I know they don't because it was banned. I guess I should get on the Internets and find some cheap Chinese bottles just to prove I don't care about my kid ingesting fake estrogens? But I'm sure you're not saying I should, nor should I be blowing second-hand smoke in my child's face like I don't know what could result from that, and I'm sure you're not saying I shouldn't use a car seat when the baby is in a car. So I guess I'm not sure what you are saying. Maybe you're saying we women these days are too darn educated for our own good. OK, guilty as charged.

Baby Love

Nobody ever had a baby because they wanted to be appreciated... by the baby. In terms of being thanked by the person you're waiting on hand and foot, mothering a newborn is the most thankless job on the planet. Or so it would seem.

Tonight I put Baby R down for the night before he was asleep and left the room. I did this the night before and for naps today, and I discovered that he will go to sleep on his own, as long as his tummy is completely full and he is generally content. Tonight, though, he wasn't quite done his evening nursing marathon yet, so he stayed awake and fussed. CV and I could hear him on the monitor. At first the fussing was mild, and I thought he might still drift off, but then he started to get a little louder, and I knew he wasn't done with me. So I went upstairs, even though I had wanted to spend some more time downstairs with CV.

So, I was feeling a little put out, but when Baby R saw me leaning over him, he broke out into a huge happy smile. Suddenly I realized, I'm this kid's favourite person! All I have to do is make eye contact with him, and he's thrilled. When I picked him up out of the playpen and sat him on my bed propped against my pillow as I changed my clothes, he smiled at me the whole time. It made me think, maybe the babies do thank us, after all. They thank us with helpless love and total trust.

When I got into bed and started nursing Baby R, I realized the TV remote was too far away for me to reach. I knew it could be the netter part of an hour of nursing, so I really wanted that remote. I had no choice but to interrupt Baby R just as he was vetting into his groove. I was afraid he'd be upset, be he wasn't. He just waited for me to lie back down and continue feeding him. It was like he had perfect confidence that I'd take care of him. Now that's trust!

So I guess I'll take that as my thanks, at least for now.

Mom Material?

Even though Mr. Pandora and I are ttc (trying to conceive), I don't really think I'm the typical maternal type (or stereotypical maternal type, I should say). Like the kind of woman you look at and talk to and just KNOW that someday she'll have a bunch of kids and totally love being a mom. As a kid, I played with Transformers, not baby dolls. I feel awkward when I hold a baby, and I suck at changing diapers. Young kids intimidate me, they see right through people and I'm afraid they'll think I'm weird. I don't think I would put my kid's pics in my forum sig, or a ticker showing how long until their third birthday. I don't browse in baby stores just because. I haven't started decorating the baby's room in my mind or choosing my favourite names or keeping track of where on the planet Brangelina's latest addition is coming from (she's preggers, right?).

My sister has been a great mom from day 1. And I'm not used to looking up to her because she's younger than me. Talk about an inferiority complex.

I'm not particularly looking forward to sleep deprivation, changing poopy diapers (gag), wiping noses and spit-up, a messy house, breaking up sibling fights, going to parent-teacher conferences, helping with homework (especially math, ha ha), taking them to crappy "kid-friendly" movies, being half an hour late for everything because it takes forever to get out of the house, etc., etc. Not to mention the larger issues surrounding raising kids, like stressing out over whether we'll get a daycare spot, arguing with Mr. Pandora about how to answer tricky questions like "is there a God?", trying to prevent my mom from smothering them (seriously), and whatnot.

I've had dozens of dreams where I was responsible for a child or baby, and something terrible happens and I have to rescue her. But in these dreams, the child is not mine. It's either my half-sister (she was born when I was 18) or one of my nephews, or sometimes they're not even related to me. But I'm terrified because I'm responsible for them and if anything happens, it will be my fault. Why haven't I ever had a dream where the child was mine? I always thought that meant something negative about me, maybe.

It makes me feel bad that I can't just think, "Babies, yay!" It makes me think that maybe I'm not "maternal enough." Is it a mistake for someone like me to have a baby?

But then this morning as I was getting ready for work, I suddenly remembered that I had a dream last night that I was lying in bed and next to me was my baby, and I turned on my side to breastfeed her, and she was looking right into my eyes. When I remembered that this morning, the extreme love that I felt in the dream came rushing back, and I realized that is why I'm ttc.