Before you begin reading, a note from the writer:
When I refer to ‘mother’, please don’t get all squeaky and think I’m offending every single one of them. I’m talking about some that I have come in contact with, some. Not all, just a proportion. So let’s just keep that in mind. Before I’m pelted with rusk sticks.
Motherhood.
One amazing journey.
That I’m not ready to take.
Well, it’s not that I’m not ready to be a mother, it’s just that I don’t want to be one yet. And I feel bad for saying that. Because it’s almost like saying it is somehow jinxing myself, knowing full well that one day I do want children. But now? Not so much.
Many mothers I know, or read about – from old high school friends to celebrities – all seem to have the same thoughts on babies: that their life pre-baby was insignificant, that they never knew true love until they held their baby and that life without their child would be absolutely meaningless – and I’m quite sure those sentiments are true. I’m quite sure that one day, if I am lucky enough to have children, I will stare into their eyes and feel something entirely different to what I have ever felt before, something incredibly powerful.
But.
Nothing is more off-putting, and nothing severs a friendship faster, than having to hear from a friend all about why you don’t get ‘it’ and why your life means pretty much nothing because you are without child. I want to know when mothers became the authority police on everything?
Saying what you really think about some mothers is terribly dangerous territory; it’s like taking an axe to your neck, which I may as well do, because I fear some of my thoughts won’t be popular, but I’m willing to stick my neck out anyway. So before I do, please know this; I love children. And I’m not just saying that. I have four nephews, one niece and a lot of love I share between them – I spend a lot of time with them, babysit them, take them shopping, take them to cafes, and post offices, and playgrounds. I drive them around and tie their shoelaces and read them stories and prepare their food and clean up their mess. I know how taxing, how draining, motherhood is, even just for a glimpse of time. I understand how challenging being a mother is, but how it’s rewarding and magical at the same time.
But I still don’t understand some things.
Like why being a mother gives them right of way. Everywhere. Hey, I get that they have a lot of stuff, but so does everyone. Bowling people over in the supermarket, or on the street, with their three-wheeled death machine is just not kosher.
And I completely understand how exciting and life-changing it is for a woman to become a mother, and how they want to share every single detail with every single person about their babies schedule and nappy changes and feeding habits, but it’s actually not that interesting. It’s rather dull. And unless I have to babysit the child (and therefore know all of that information) or unless I asked for more and more detail, it’s really okay to give a brief rundown.
And, not that I’m self-centered or egotistical, but sometimes, just every now and again, it’s more than okay for a mother to ask about someone else’s life. About what’s new and what’s up. But it’s not ok for a mother to assume that everything going on in someone else’s life is trivial and unimportant – because, you know what mums? You may have had a baby, but the world kept turning on its axis too.
And while I’m at it, seeing as I brought it up, can you gung-ho mums stop being so LOUD everywhere you go? You have these wonderful children, but YOU’RE the ones yelling in the supermarket, making a scene. You’re the ones snarling and boldly exclaiming all sorts of rubbish just to be heard. And I don’t believe in a lot of hush. I grew up in a noisy house with people coming and going like the doors belonged to a saloon, and with lots of kids screaming and banging and making noise, which is healthy and fun and cute. But noisy mothers? ‘Oh look at you Timmy, look how good you eat your biscuit, look how clever you are for someone so young,’ is not endearing, it’s vomit nearing.
The thing is, there is a lot that I really don’t know about motherhood. And it’s easy for me to sit back and point my finger when I’m not standing in someone else’s wellies, but I hope that, when and if my turn comes, I’m not one of those mums juggling their frappachino over their babies head, loudly proclaiming their child’s abilities to anyone in a food court, whilst dismissing anyone else sans baby sling. Because honestly, that’s draining.
Oh grow up! You have a lot to learn about everything …
Like you, Sandi, I’m not a mother, although I am planning to have children at some point in the future; however, my knowledge about small children is much less than yours, mainly because my only friends with babies both gave birth this week on two different continents, neither of which I am currently inhabiting. But even so, exactly because I plan on having kids one day and because I’ve got very little first-hand experience with rugrats, I try and pay attention to what’s going on in the World of Parents, as expressed through mum-blogs, news and general observation. And I think you’re right – there are some obsessive parents out there.
Having talked about this with my own mother, who surely qualifies as a more knowledgable commentator, she and her friends (all veteran parents) are heartily sick of what they refer to as The Divine Right of Strollers and the current fad for helicopter parenting. There’s a different culture to motherhood now than when they were a bunch of young mums, and while much of it is undoubtably positive or simply a benin this-is-now vogue, there are also bound to be negative and/or obnoxious elements, simply because perfection is anathema to the human state.
My own quasi-theory is that parenting in general – but specifically motherhood – is in the process of being reclaimed as an intllectual persuit as much as a loving choice. Having abandoned the notion that all women are destined to be wives and stay-at-mothers, society has been struggling to know how to treat women who still chose that life out of personal preference. Children didn’t stop being necessary, but as feminism isn’t putting men into the home at the same rate as it’s been putting women into the workforce, there has been, and probably still is, a weird imbalance to how stay-at-home mums are perceived. Throw in the rise in household costs of living and the subsequent need for most families to be supported by dual incomes in a society where there is an increasing emphasis on childhood learning and wellbeing, and we’ve hit the ideal circumstances for a strain of competitive parenting and mothering to emerge.
Because of parental time-constraints and the proven advantage of a broad childhood curriculum, kids are scheduled and watched for every sign of improvement, allowing competitive parents to brag about every advance their offspring makes. Women have always argued, and with good reason, that child-rearing is a busy, tiring job, but as many mothers are now working paying jobs while still being the primary carers for their kids, some will unavoidably end up with chips on their shoulders about their household routines, how much effort they put in, and so on. Those aspects, I think, are less about childbirth turning women into irritating bores than they are about mothers – and motherhood – reacting to changed circumstances. It’s a lot of responsibility to carry, and while it can be very annoying for the rest of us – and while certain personalities doubtless make things worse – underneath, a lot of women just want to reassure themselves that they’re doing their best for their kids.
And as for motherhood being a sacred state wherein all else previous is rendeed meaningless, however, I think that’s a more detrimental subset of the same phenomenon. Part of reclaiming motherhood as being a valid, purposeful persuit that in no way diminishes one’s abilities in other areas has been to reconnect it with a sort of goddess ideal, wherein birth is lauded as a connection to the sacred feminine. You have only to look at the most extreme home/unassisted birth movements, some of which have coined the term ‘birth rape’ to describe the involvement of male doctors in assisted hospital deliveries, to get an idea of how some women are trying to reclaim the spiritual significance of their own biological functions. There are obviously less extreme, more benign versions of female power being derived from the experience of childbirth, but the fact that in this day and age we’ve felt the need to defensively reconnect with the notion that babies are a female prerogative surely says something as much about our current socio-cultural incertainties as about the mystique of the XX chromosone.
And, of course, at the last measure: some people are just dull, uninteresting and/or rude. Given that mothers and parents are a fairly common species of people, some of them are bound to fall into one or all of these categories. But don’t let them give the rest of the mothering flock a bad name – better to consider how we might raise our eventual spawn in light of behaviours that irk us than to simply roll our eyes and give up.
Thought-provoking piece!
Very honest and real post, Sandi.
I won’t comment on the behaviours of some mums – because I haven’t met enough to irk me yet.
But, I do feel the same on having babies. It might be the best thing we’ll ever experience, becoming mums and holding that tiny bundle in your hands, but somehow I’m just not ready. In fact, I don’t think anyone will EVER be ready. It’s not just getting pregnant for 9 months and giving birth; it’s more like being responsible for another person’s life now. It’s scary, to say the least.
That being said, I do believe that when the time comes, regardless of whether you’re ready, the baby will make all things seem right.
Great post Sandi. So true, it’s terrible how people judge others for their choices in life. If you’re not ready for a baby yet, then that is your decision and no one should make you feel bad about that. Good on you for saying what you believe.
I’ve always wondered, from the nauseating too-much-information status updates on Facebook (there’s a website dedicated to this phenomenon, called STFUparents by the way) to the in-your-face, obnoxious and downright selfish behavior we encounter on a daily basis from new parents, why is it such a taboo to tell them off or scold them the way we would any person acting in a socially unacceptable/rude way?
Great article Sandi!
very honest post sandi. i desperately want to be a mother one day, when i have the emotional and financial stability. or at least a father for them!
i dont have that much exposure to babies or the mothers you are talking about. my step mum had a baby last year and it was the first time ive really ever interacted with bubs. BUT she is NOTHING like the mothers you mention, and i have no doubt that they exist, im actually hoping none of my friends turn out like that. but my step mum is the opposite. so there is hope for us as-yet non-mothers!
How original – God, I’ve only read a million blogs and articles about the same topic a million times before. Well done.
I find it very interesting that the two people who’ve scoffed at this article have only deigned to do so in a single, sneering line, rather than offer anything constructive. Hmm.
Thanks for all the comments ladies. I’m always impressed by the varied opinions and responses to my columns – and of course they would be varied. We all think differently, value different things and have different opinions. It’s the beauty of life. We’re all entitled to live it how we damn well please…but we’re also entitled to comment on how others live and, hopefully, to learn from them. As Foz so eloquently put it, “some people are just dull, uninteresting and/or rude.” Indeed they are. But they’re allowed to be. And I’m allowed to comment on them.