MAR’ 20

12

Spring break is looming and I was texting back and forth with multiple Blossom moms about play dates for Willa with some of her schoolmates. I was offering to take children off the hands of their parents for the entire morning through lunch on multiple days. In a stream of texts, one of the moms adds,

You’re a supermom

Of course, this is flattering. But, I do feel a little bit of unease at the compliment. I believe, most of the time, that I am a “good enough” mom. Like any other parent, there are times where I find myself coming up short. I make mistakes or I succumb to the urge (despite knowing better) to yell, to bribe, or to “turtle*.” Other times, we work through difficult moments together and it goes swimmingly “textbook.”

I love my child and, perhaps, more significantly, I love being a mother. Motherhood has been and is an incredible locus of inquiry, creativity, and experimentation for me. I read, endlessly and with fascination, books on parenting, developmental psychology, and pedagogy. I enjoy cooking, baking, gardening, and raising chickens. I like learning new skills such as knitting, sashiko mending, and sewing. Tending to a home is philosophically/spiritually/ethically meaningful to me. But, while my diverse interests align with a certain idealized version of motherhood, I am still only human, foibles included.

I love motherhood and, like everything else worth doing in my life, it is challenging. A huge part of my parenting is figuring out how to integrate this new person into my life and our family such that everyone’s needs and desires are acknowledged and balanced against the, occasionally competing, needs of others. For instance, as an introvert, I require solitude. Living with a toddler, as you might imagine, means that this kind of time can be difficult to come by. So, while I am committed to homeschooling, I need to find ways to meet my need for peace and solitude. One of the ways that I do this is by sending Willa to Blossom three mornings a week. And, during school breaks, I’ve learned that arranging playdates for Willa with other children with whom she gets along extremely well means that I can get away with minimal interaction with other humans for several hours (= heaven). That is all.

I am wary of the imputation that to be a mother (a good one, especially) is to be something other than your average human being. It is not only unfair to me (mere mortal that I am) but to all the other women who choose to take up the mantle. If I have any advice to give, it will always be this: Know yourself. You cannot and do not have to try to be everything to your child. Do what you love to do together and seek help with all the rest. If you can extend that measure of grace to yourself, it will be easier to do to others and we’d all be much better off for it.

In solidarity.

* A term coined by my husband to describe me when I’ve had it and retreat from all manner of external engagement into the safety and peace of the recesses of my mind.