I’m Surrounded By Nuts!

When I first became a mother over 14 years ago I was working retail at the local mall.  I was 23, young and obviously dumb. I was working with a unique group of women far more experienced than me, in fact three of them were already grandmothers. One of these women was very wise, in fact I pretty much worshipped her. Because I feel the need to keep her identity a secret we’ll call her Mary (as in the blessed saint, and she’s Jewish so that’s actually funny!).

Mary had 2 children, both boys. By the time she and I had started working together her sons were pretty close to my age and Mary shared with me her desire to be a grandmother. In fact, when I found out that I was pregnant it was Mary that gave me my first baby gift, a teddy bear (which I cherish to this day…..but have no idea where it is).

After my beautiful baby girl was born I spent 2 months at home caring for her and then it was time to return to work (not a Dr. Laura fan at the time). I shared with Mary that I was overwhelmed by the fact that FD was not a great sleeper, an amazingly loud screamer and hungry ALL OF THE TIME. In other words motherhood was not what I had expected. In sharing these disappointments with Mary I was hoping for grace, understanding, guidance and hope. This is what I got (and it’s stuck with me over the last 14 years):

 ”Honey,” Mary said “I once took my boys to the doctor and told their doctor that I wanted to send them back!”

“Send them back?” I asked, not knowing that was possible…..but still somewhat hopeful.

Then, very delicately she said “I told him that I hated my children and that I could not be their mother.”

“Hated your children??” I exclaimed. And without saying it out loud I wondered “Who could HATE their own child?”

Sensing my unease Mary looked at me and said “My doctor assured me that this was simply a “faze” but trust me, some day you’ll be there too; you’ll know exactly what I mean.”

That story has haunted me to this day. I love my children, but I don’t always likethem. In the grand scheme of things it could be a lot worse but at the same time I could understand what Mary’s message was.

Parenting is a choice; and mostly the hardest choices are the ones that are of the most benefit to our kids, but we don’t see that at the time because it’s so much easier to give in to what they want so that they will stop complaining, or asking or screaming! So here are the choices:

1. Be complete suck-up parents and give them everything they want.
2. Be the complete opposite and have them grow up to hate you and everything you’ve ever done.
3. Find the happy medium and then get screwed because they still hate you for not letting them do EVERYTHING that they want.

In other words we’re screwed. Funny thing is that I’m okay with that. I love my kids, they’re not my friends. I don’t think that I truly earned the “friend” distinction with my dad until only a few years ago and I’m pushing 40!

Being a mother is the hardest job on the planet and although I hear a lot of stories of mothers that say that it’s the most rewarding job ever, I’m sceptical. Being a mom never made me money, never made me feel “successful” and certainly hasn’t earned me any awards. So where is the reward? Is this the mind of a mother with teenagers, too overloaded and stressed? Or is this the mind of a woman who had children and expected way more than what the world could and/or should deliver?

It doesn’t really matter either way. I am a mom, I have a job and I’m doing it…..and that’s what moms everywhere do every day. It’s thankless and (yes even on Mother’s Day) it’s just what we do. So why is Mother’s Day only one day out of the year? Is that all that we’re worth?