Psyched to Be a Modern Mother
by monica gallagher
(Published in the February 2010 Forum, the national publication of Mothers and More)
I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard someone say, “Well, past generations didn’t have all these parenting classes, or overanalyze all these ‘issues,’ and their kids turned out okay.” In general, I support this statement. Everything is relative; good instincts and advice can take people pretty far. One could argue people that my age and younger are more dysfunctional than past generations—just look at our credit card debt and obesity rates.
However, in my professional role working closely with neighborhood elders, I’ve also met a lot of people in their 80s and 90s who really didn’t turn out OK. They’re still carrying debilitating grief and pain from childhood, grief that may not have caused so many glaring scars with a little openness and recognition. Two of my husband’s female relatives believed they were dying when they first had their periods. They had never been told it was coming. One of these women learned that her lifelong dream of completing art school was over when the principal informed her the semester’s tuition hadn’t been paid by her father, who had mysteriously arrived at the conclusion she wasn’t performing up to his standards. Discussing sensitive topics with one's children—or other mothers—wasn’t encouraged for many of the Greatest Generation.
Mary Pipher is a psychologist and author of Another Country: Navigating the Emotional Terrain of Our Elders (2000). She claims that the significant change in generational identity came not with technology, but with the widespread awareness of psychology. I tend to believe this. Airplane travel and iPods haven’t changed the way we view ourselves and our relationships the way pop psychology has. Almost nothing is taboo on Facebook, it seems, but technology alone did not have the power to remove the taboo from discussing depression, sex, or even painful sibling rivalry. That took decades of psychologists and talk show hosts.
It is heartbreaking to realize that the 80-year-old I am visiting carries wounds that haven’t healed in 72 years, when she was eight and forced to take on primary responsibility for her five younger siblings. Her mom was disinterested in mothering or housework. “Do you think it could have been depression?” I ask conversationally. “Probably,” sighs Betty, her daughter, so many years later.
My late mother, Mary Jo, experienced serious episodes of addiction, depression, and even a couple brief psychotic breaks from reality. She also worked as a nurse at an addiction recovery program heavy in psychological jargon, read self-help books prodigiously and shared important parts of her mental health journeys with her seven children as we got older. In my adulthood, she and I could not discuss everything, but we had some wonderful conversations. In my cheekier moments, I would mention an aspect of her parenting I found fault with, and she was able to agree matter-of-factly with my assessment without any denial or self-flagellation. She could name her mistakes, and some of the isolation and lack of support that contributed as well. This brave and honest response validated powerful tools for me as a developing woman: my unique perspective and ability to analyze important history and my identity as a whole, competent person despite my parents’ mistakes. Eight years into motherhood, I also appreciate my mother’s ability to own her caregiving weaknesses while continuing to love herself.
I have three close friends who are mothers and women with depression diagnoses. All are high-functioning people in every way, holding down challenging jobs and raising competent, secure children. But as intelligent, aware mothers, they know too many low-energy days or negative moods may impact these children, and the prospect of the genetic or behavioral transmission of depression is a terrifying thought. Sometimes when I’m with them, we venture into the loaded topic of how our emotional states affect our childcare work. We reassure one another that a few blue days at a time won’t doom our children. Talking openly about the topic while those children play and laugh together in another room definitely makes it feel less loaded and fraught with danger.
As I sit in bed, looking for some refresher strategies that appeal to my gut instinct AND will help my husband and me through the latest parenting challenge, these are some of the stories I carry. I remain willing to risk overly psychological approaches to mothering and relationships. When I go one step further and bounce these ideas off friends, the rewards are even greater. Books and theories won’t solve all our problems, but naming our most important struggles together can only help us see them more clearly.
Monica Gallagher is a parent, social worker, and amateur pop psychologist whose mother liked to say such things as, “You need to get better at delaying gratification” and “The Latin root of sarcasm is ‘to tear flesh’.” She is a member of Twin Cities East, MN Chapter 299.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
In the Minority on an Historic Day
Sometimes, one finds herself in the right place at the right time. Today I was one of two white people watching Obama's inauguration at a sliding-fee medical clinic in St. Paul, that caters to both people who can afford regular health insurance, and those that cannot. I was providing a ride for an elder for work; from what I could tell, the clientele is diverse but primarily lower to middle income African-American.
As the time neared, one patient asked if the clinic planned to air the inauguration; soon after, one of the employees brought out a television and set it up. Within a few minutes, there were about a dozen of us watching the festivities: seven African-American women, two African-American men, and an Asian couple. I think one of the employees sensed my combination of joy and shyness given the occasion and the group, and made an effort to smile at me several times as if to say, "We understand you may be happy about this, too!" I had the frivolous and self-centered desire to acknowledge to them that I'm not determined to keep white privilege and others' lack of privilege exactly where they are, that I desire to be a "good guy" in the eyes of average people.
I listened intently to the group's spontaneous comments. About Clinton, one African-American woman said matter-of-factly, as if watching an old movie Western, "Oh, he's a good guy." When Obama said his father may not have been served in a restaurant 60 years ago, I didn't dare look away from the screen but heard more than one thoughtful "Ugh" of understanding. When the commentator mentioned that Biden's wife prefers to teach at community college over prestigious universities, one man murmured, "She's trying to keep it simple, man." Various people clapped spontaneously several times. The only other white person, a woman a few years my senior, stood, teary-eyed, for 40 minutes solid. I grew up and live among Midwestern white stoics, but I became a Spanish major in college partially because I love cultures that show emotion, especially positive emotion.
And there was plenty of positive emotion to go around this morning, listening to Aretha Franklin, Obama, and my fellow citizens for whom the inauguration was even more powerful than it was for me. I was in the right place, at the right time.
As the time neared, one patient asked if the clinic planned to air the inauguration; soon after, one of the employees brought out a television and set it up. Within a few minutes, there were about a dozen of us watching the festivities: seven African-American women, two African-American men, and an Asian couple. I think one of the employees sensed my combination of joy and shyness given the occasion and the group, and made an effort to smile at me several times as if to say, "We understand you may be happy about this, too!" I had the frivolous and self-centered desire to acknowledge to them that I'm not determined to keep white privilege and others' lack of privilege exactly where they are, that I desire to be a "good guy" in the eyes of average people.
I listened intently to the group's spontaneous comments. About Clinton, one African-American woman said matter-of-factly, as if watching an old movie Western, "Oh, he's a good guy." When Obama said his father may not have been served in a restaurant 60 years ago, I didn't dare look away from the screen but heard more than one thoughtful "Ugh" of understanding. When the commentator mentioned that Biden's wife prefers to teach at community college over prestigious universities, one man murmured, "She's trying to keep it simple, man." Various people clapped spontaneously several times. The only other white person, a woman a few years my senior, stood, teary-eyed, for 40 minutes solid. I grew up and live among Midwestern white stoics, but I became a Spanish major in college partially because I love cultures that show emotion, especially positive emotion.
And there was plenty of positive emotion to go around this morning, listening to Aretha Franklin, Obama, and my fellow citizens for whom the inauguration was even more powerful than it was for me. I was in the right place, at the right time.
Friday, February 15, 2008
The Ultimate Poster Child for Family-Friendly Workplaces
I volunteered in my daughter's kindergarten classroom for an hour and a half this afternoon. I work mornings, and Grandma was able to take her little sister, so I jumped at the opportunity to get to know the place our daughter will spend so much of the next six years. I enjoyed helping the kids with their projects and soaking in their distinct personalities, which were so obvious even as they did the same task.
The most poignant moment was when a darling dark-haired boy blurted out, "I wish MY mom would come help in my classroom! I could see her, and say 'hi,' and show her around." I don't know this boy, or whether or not his mom works, or how her boss might have reacted to this earnest child.
I don't know if my response was politically correct, or potentially created false hopes, but if this were my capable, charming son, I would want to know this about him. So I looked him in the eye, smiled, and said, "Really? Maybe she can, sometime. Ask her, and see what she says." He pondered this as he went back to working diligently. I wonder if he told her over dinner tonight; hopefully she was already slotted for next week, and he didn't know it yet.
Economically, it seems to get harder and harder for parents to slip from work to spend time at school or work anything less than very long hours. Workplaces have gained from the skill sets of women and mothers, with great benefit to society. The flipside to this is that the caregivers who used to be more available to aging parents, aunties, and children are pressed for time to spend with their nuclear families, let alone widowed great-aunts. So many adult children of the elders at work live in the metro area, but often a one or two hour drive away, which may as well be four hours during most work weeks. It's scary to ask for an afternoon off in many competitive workplaces. I have heard the sadness and loss in the voices of their 80-something parents more often than I care to recall. They are often grateful to have neighborhood volunteers available for their medical appointments, but openly thrilled when family can take them instead.
It's a little intimidating to volunteer next to the regulars, the SAHMs of multiple students who know the ropes at my daughter's school. Some don't exactly welcome moms in work attire. But if I ever become complacent with knowing little about our daughter's school world, I need only think about her disarmingly honest, dashing classmate.
The most poignant moment was when a darling dark-haired boy blurted out, "I wish MY mom would come help in my classroom! I could see her, and say 'hi,' and show her around." I don't know this boy, or whether or not his mom works, or how her boss might have reacted to this earnest child.
I don't know if my response was politically correct, or potentially created false hopes, but if this were my capable, charming son, I would want to know this about him. So I looked him in the eye, smiled, and said, "Really? Maybe she can, sometime. Ask her, and see what she says." He pondered this as he went back to working diligently. I wonder if he told her over dinner tonight; hopefully she was already slotted for next week, and he didn't know it yet.
Economically, it seems to get harder and harder for parents to slip from work to spend time at school or work anything less than very long hours. Workplaces have gained from the skill sets of women and mothers, with great benefit to society. The flipside to this is that the caregivers who used to be more available to aging parents, aunties, and children are pressed for time to spend with their nuclear families, let alone widowed great-aunts. So many adult children of the elders at work live in the metro area, but often a one or two hour drive away, which may as well be four hours during most work weeks. It's scary to ask for an afternoon off in many competitive workplaces. I have heard the sadness and loss in the voices of their 80-something parents more often than I care to recall. They are often grateful to have neighborhood volunteers available for their medical appointments, but openly thrilled when family can take them instead.
It's a little intimidating to volunteer next to the regulars, the SAHMs of multiple students who know the ropes at my daughter's school. Some don't exactly welcome moms in work attire. But if I ever become complacent with knowing little about our daughter's school world, I need only think about her disarmingly honest, dashing classmate.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Not A Baby Boomer, But Not A Bad Person Either
What does it mean that Google is advertising Ambien on my blog? Does it read like the incoherent musings of someone sleep-deprived? Or that the only readers are those with persistent insomnia? This may come as a shock, but I usually do get enough sleep, and hope all four of my readers do, too; I believe in both caring for others and self-care. I slide into martyrdom occasionally, but try not to make it a habit. (Sorry, Ambien marketeers).
I attended a meeting today of about 12 people, and was the second youngest person in attendance, as usual. I'm used to this, but when an insensitive 20-something was discussed as a "baby," I bristled. This guy sounded like the kind who'll still be a jerk at 50, so I wish they wouldn't chalk it up to his youth. When another person in attendance referred to our whole group as baby boomers, I bristled again. Ageism goes both ways. Don't assume 80-somethings have dementia, and don't assume I'm an insensitive, self-obsessed jerk because I'm not yet 40. Some don't trust anyone over 30; in my business, I know just as many that don't trust anyone UNDER 35. Yet I said nothing, because in this prickly atmosphere, I didn't want to remind the group of my terrible, problematic relative youth.
It's February in Minnesota, and winter has lost most of its charm for most of us. Many of the elders at work are relative prisoners in their own homes, for fear of falling on snow and ice. It's a legitimate fear, too--one of our volunteers badly wrenched his back just this week, and he's a hearty person.
On a more positive note, I'm taking the kids to a family-friendly concert, and today's Friday. To beat the blahs, winter or otherwise, I'm a firm believer in exercise, music, healthy, interesting food, faith communities, and other wholesome institutions. I'm thankful to have young, energetic kids who propel me forward toward the light, even when the days feel a little dark and short. I'll do my best to pay forward their enthusiasm with those who consider ME a kid, at 32!
I attended a meeting today of about 12 people, and was the second youngest person in attendance, as usual. I'm used to this, but when an insensitive 20-something was discussed as a "baby," I bristled. This guy sounded like the kind who'll still be a jerk at 50, so I wish they wouldn't chalk it up to his youth. When another person in attendance referred to our whole group as baby boomers, I bristled again. Ageism goes both ways. Don't assume 80-somethings have dementia, and don't assume I'm an insensitive, self-obsessed jerk because I'm not yet 40. Some don't trust anyone over 30; in my business, I know just as many that don't trust anyone UNDER 35. Yet I said nothing, because in this prickly atmosphere, I didn't want to remind the group of my terrible, problematic relative youth.
It's February in Minnesota, and winter has lost most of its charm for most of us. Many of the elders at work are relative prisoners in their own homes, for fear of falling on snow and ice. It's a legitimate fear, too--one of our volunteers badly wrenched his back just this week, and he's a hearty person.
On a more positive note, I'm taking the kids to a family-friendly concert, and today's Friday. To beat the blahs, winter or otherwise, I'm a firm believer in exercise, music, healthy, interesting food, faith communities, and other wholesome institutions. I'm thankful to have young, energetic kids who propel me forward toward the light, even when the days feel a little dark and short. I'll do my best to pay forward their enthusiasm with those who consider ME a kid, at 32!
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Refuting The "Mommy War" Concept
The following is a version (without full names and hometowns) of the feature article from the Spring 2008 Forum, the Mothers and More quarterly publication (http://www.mothersandmore.org/). I found it fascinating to research the experiences of women who have been both stay-at-home moms and full-time work-away moms; there are plenty of implications for social policy and American culture as a whole.
No Doula for These Mothers’ Transition Phases
Childbirth is hardly the only time mothers experience a “transition phase.” Each of the 65 responders to a recent Mothers and More survey has worked full-time since becoming a mother, and had at least one period of stay-at-home parenting. Female flexibility is obvious when our progesterone-softened joints defy physics in childbirth. Yet the psychological adaptations required by common work/care giving changes showcase this flexibility better than any physical transition. Judging by their e-mailed comments, many Mothers and More members are multi-faceted and strikingly flexible. At least half have also had at least one period of part-time paid work in addition to their experience with full-time parenting and full-time paid work while a mother. If at-home parenting and full-time outside work are indeed different cultures with different languages, as some respondents assert, many Mothers & More members are bi-cultural and bi-lingual.
Amy ___is one mother who perceives two different (but not necessarily opposing) cultures: “After first making the transition, I literally felt like I was living in a parallel world that I had heard about but didn't feel a part of….In my experience, working parents and stay-at-home parents are really part of two distinct cultures, and going from one to the other felt a bit like a foreign study experience.”
Kelly ___ also sees two distinct mommy cultures: “I admire the talents of SAHMs the same way I admire the talents of professionals with abilities that I do not.”
A variety of circumstances prompts the transitions from full-time outside work to full-time at-home parenting, which are reportedly less gentle than the transition back into the workplace. Some planned their transitions home for months or years, while others made changes after a personal crisis. Many experienced an emotional, dramatic turning point often related to unsatisfactory daycare settings. Rachel wrote,
"My son was hurt twice in daycare within a month (two trips to the hospital needing six stitches in his head both times). I felt this was a sign to me that it was time to make a change. But being slightly dim, I waited for a couple more signs. One was a chronic illness that I've managed for nearly 20 years flaring to the point where I was on the heaviest medications of my life….The final piece was the earlier death of my father…one of the last times we spoke he said to me, 'raise your son' and these words echoed back to me over the two years to follow to the point that I could only interpret his remarks as a reminder to focus on my family over my career."
Amy __of Chapter --describes another crisis-related transition. "After struggling for a few months, my husband floated the idea of moving to a less expensive state (we lived in New Jersey at the time) by me. I resisted at first since the idea seemed so daunting, but M. contracted a horrible GI bug that was downright scary. I had stopped breastfeeding at six months and used the last of my frozen stash to get her healthy since the pediatrician urged me to do so….It took until Michaela was 18 months old to do all our homework and finally move to our new home."
Heather created a corporate-style visual aid to make a decision to become a SAHM:
"I went to pick-up K. from the sitter…. When I took her, she cried and reached for the sitter….I went home that night and made a spreadsheet of my day’s activities. I found out that I was only 5% of her day and she was not much of mine either….A few weeks later, I resigned my position."
Other survey respondents’ transitions came not out of personal crisis, but as a result of changes in their job or their partner’s income; the birth of additional children; new career opportunities; a cross-country move; prohibitive daycare costs; or a persistent sense of isolation. Many noted that the sense of isolation decreased after becoming active in Mothers and More, although two reported not feeling supported by their local Mothers and More members as they went back to work.
Logical yet taxing transitions
Many respondents report that both they and their families thrived in both lifestyles, reporting no regrets about either life stage, yet even these adaptable mothers found the transition anything but easy.
Collier writes, “I had a difficult time with the transition, having to consciously become aware of and change many of the mothering skills that I had had in place as a working mother. It wasn't easy, and I spent months longing to return to work.”
Cathy also prefers being a SAHM for the present. However, “I NEVER expected to feel this way about being a SAHM. The first [six] months were not easy at all….I am finally loving it after doing it for just over a year.”
These mothers’ comments, like their lives, are complicated and their feelings about their personal mothering/work combinations are often contradictory at any given moment. Most missed their kids while at work and their paid work while at home. Few of them will express a clear preference for one lifestyle or the other, citing the value of making lifestyle choices according to their spouses’ earnings and/or families’ needs at the moment.
Kelly describes a typically complex change: “I was very pleased that I was able to find employment at the same level of pay and benefits that my husband had just lost within a week. I negotiated to work from home two days a week which was a god-send! The other three days, I was commuting 2 1/2 hours EACH WAY! It was killing me, but I was loving every minute. Don't get me wrong....I shed an ocean full of tears about leaving my still-nursing baby. Just because a mother loves to work doesn't mean her heart doesn't ache for her baby.”
Redefining a job well done
Regardless of which lifestyle they prefer for themselves, almost all the respondents missed the concrete positive reinforcement or defined structure of their paid jobs. Erika puts it this way: “…I must say, it was much easier flying 173 passengers through a blinding snow storm with 29 knot crosswinds on a ice covered runway than trying to figure out what your three month old wanted at 2:30 in the morning! At least with the airplane, I could tell it what I wanted and it would respond the way I asked!”
Terri also struggled with changing rewards. “I think the hardest thing is not having the feeling of accomplishment or the recognition of a job well done as a stay at home mom. There are no reviews, no raises to show what kind of job you are doing.”
Almost all the SAHMs report that eventually, they were able to redefine their expectations for a job well done, whether or not they eventually returned to the paid work force. Collier ultimately found happiness in her “mother abroad” experience: “Now, I've gotten over the culture shock, learned the language, and become comfortable in my stay-at-home world.”
In fact, many college-educated, formerly career-minded mothers were pleasantly surprised by how much creativity and pleasure they found in their new duties as SAHMs. Laura “I did not realize how much of my physical, emotional, and creative energies were committed at work until I was able to use 100% of those energies at home.”
Michele explains, “I tried to take housework and cooking to the ‘next level’ and make it special, whether it be a nicer meal or a new way to arrange the furniture, or whatever…. I enjoy working inside the home much more than outside the home.”
Bank accounts, but no paychecks, with their names attached
It is not surprising that monetary issues create stress when one parent’s income doesn’t seem adequate; however, the money-related stress extends even to families with balanced budgets. Many respondents who thoroughly enjoy their SAHM roles report that it is difficult to part with their breadwinner roles, regardless of their partners’ earnings. They value their own mothering work, but many still feel guilty spending money—and the source of that guilt is themselves as much or more than their spouses’.
Sciortino says, “Thankfully, my husband and I have never fought about money. I imagine that could be a huge source of strain otherwise. I just feel better about spending money when I’m adding to our bank accounts--whatever small amount it may be. “
It should be noted that the majority of respondents expressed a long-term preference for part-time paid work, a compromise lifestyle of sorts. Not surprisingly, when they describe the decision to seek paid work on their terms eventually, the word “flexibility” appears again and again.
Laurie writes, “I wouldn’t go back to working full-time, because my husband and I feel it’s important for my daughter to be with me most of the time during these early years…. I also wouldn’t go back to being a full-time SAHM, because my daughter needs the socialization of being with other children and the experience of being away from Mommy and Daddy to build her independence.”
Challenges aside, “no regrets” is a common theme for mothers with diverse work and care giving experience. After adapting their budgets, sources of motivation, relationships, and skills, they take their life lessons to heart as they move into the future with their families. Katie echoes the sentiments of several respondents: “I love being back at work, but I also would not have traded the first year I had at home with my daughter….I feel lucky that I had that SAHM experience, but I have no regrets about my decision to go back to work full time.”
Ultimately, each mother had to find a very personal, unique sense of balance, a balance that lasts only until her next major transition. Dawn is an example of a formerly employed SAHM who knows that there is more “sequencing” to come: “I still have a desire to make my own money and use my talents, so I am trying to figure out what is next.” Kauffman concurs: “I don't think I'll be an at-home mom, forever, though. I feel some part of me is missing, and one day I'll be ready to reclaim that part.”
Going between full-time paid work as a mom to full-time care giving, and often back again, echoes the dramatic transformations of pregnancy. The resilience demonstrated by mothers passing through these whiplash transitions rival the highs and lows of the adoption process. The moms surveyed made the most of various life stages with resourcefulness and extreme flexibility, through some very stressful times. Lifestyle changes will always be part of parenting, and the 65 respondents seem very much up to extreme transitions with no handbook to guide them. Yet many of those who have experienced both extremely demanding full-time jobs and sometimes isolated mothering make it clear that in the future, no matter what combination of duties comprises their week, their ideals are forever sharpened to include what inspires them, what motivates them, and what fits their own unique family’s values.
No Doula for These Mothers’ Transition Phases
Childbirth is hardly the only time mothers experience a “transition phase.” Each of the 65 responders to a recent Mothers and More survey has worked full-time since becoming a mother, and had at least one period of stay-at-home parenting. Female flexibility is obvious when our progesterone-softened joints defy physics in childbirth. Yet the psychological adaptations required by common work/care giving changes showcase this flexibility better than any physical transition. Judging by their e-mailed comments, many Mothers and More members are multi-faceted and strikingly flexible. At least half have also had at least one period of part-time paid work in addition to their experience with full-time parenting and full-time paid work while a mother. If at-home parenting and full-time outside work are indeed different cultures with different languages, as some respondents assert, many Mothers & More members are bi-cultural and bi-lingual.
Amy ___is one mother who perceives two different (but not necessarily opposing) cultures: “After first making the transition, I literally felt like I was living in a parallel world that I had heard about but didn't feel a part of….In my experience, working parents and stay-at-home parents are really part of two distinct cultures, and going from one to the other felt a bit like a foreign study experience.”
Kelly ___ also sees two distinct mommy cultures: “I admire the talents of SAHMs the same way I admire the talents of professionals with abilities that I do not.”
A variety of circumstances prompts the transitions from full-time outside work to full-time at-home parenting, which are reportedly less gentle than the transition back into the workplace. Some planned their transitions home for months or years, while others made changes after a personal crisis. Many experienced an emotional, dramatic turning point often related to unsatisfactory daycare settings. Rachel wrote,
"My son was hurt twice in daycare within a month (two trips to the hospital needing six stitches in his head both times). I felt this was a sign to me that it was time to make a change. But being slightly dim, I waited for a couple more signs. One was a chronic illness that I've managed for nearly 20 years flaring to the point where I was on the heaviest medications of my life….The final piece was the earlier death of my father…one of the last times we spoke he said to me, 'raise your son' and these words echoed back to me over the two years to follow to the point that I could only interpret his remarks as a reminder to focus on my family over my career."
Amy __of Chapter --describes another crisis-related transition. "After struggling for a few months, my husband floated the idea of moving to a less expensive state (we lived in New Jersey at the time) by me. I resisted at first since the idea seemed so daunting, but M. contracted a horrible GI bug that was downright scary. I had stopped breastfeeding at six months and used the last of my frozen stash to get her healthy since the pediatrician urged me to do so….It took until Michaela was 18 months old to do all our homework and finally move to our new home."
Heather created a corporate-style visual aid to make a decision to become a SAHM:
"I went to pick-up K. from the sitter…. When I took her, she cried and reached for the sitter….I went home that night and made a spreadsheet of my day’s activities. I found out that I was only 5% of her day and she was not much of mine either….A few weeks later, I resigned my position."
Other survey respondents’ transitions came not out of personal crisis, but as a result of changes in their job or their partner’s income; the birth of additional children; new career opportunities; a cross-country move; prohibitive daycare costs; or a persistent sense of isolation. Many noted that the sense of isolation decreased after becoming active in Mothers and More, although two reported not feeling supported by their local Mothers and More members as they went back to work.
Logical yet taxing transitions
Many respondents report that both they and their families thrived in both lifestyles, reporting no regrets about either life stage, yet even these adaptable mothers found the transition anything but easy.
Collier writes, “I had a difficult time with the transition, having to consciously become aware of and change many of the mothering skills that I had had in place as a working mother. It wasn't easy, and I spent months longing to return to work.”
Cathy also prefers being a SAHM for the present. However, “I NEVER expected to feel this way about being a SAHM. The first [six] months were not easy at all….I am finally loving it after doing it for just over a year.”
These mothers’ comments, like their lives, are complicated and their feelings about their personal mothering/work combinations are often contradictory at any given moment. Most missed their kids while at work and their paid work while at home. Few of them will express a clear preference for one lifestyle or the other, citing the value of making lifestyle choices according to their spouses’ earnings and/or families’ needs at the moment.
Kelly describes a typically complex change: “I was very pleased that I was able to find employment at the same level of pay and benefits that my husband had just lost within a week. I negotiated to work from home two days a week which was a god-send! The other three days, I was commuting 2 1/2 hours EACH WAY! It was killing me, but I was loving every minute. Don't get me wrong....I shed an ocean full of tears about leaving my still-nursing baby. Just because a mother loves to work doesn't mean her heart doesn't ache for her baby.”
Redefining a job well done
Regardless of which lifestyle they prefer for themselves, almost all the respondents missed the concrete positive reinforcement or defined structure of their paid jobs. Erika puts it this way: “…I must say, it was much easier flying 173 passengers through a blinding snow storm with 29 knot crosswinds on a ice covered runway than trying to figure out what your three month old wanted at 2:30 in the morning! At least with the airplane, I could tell it what I wanted and it would respond the way I asked!”
Terri also struggled with changing rewards. “I think the hardest thing is not having the feeling of accomplishment or the recognition of a job well done as a stay at home mom. There are no reviews, no raises to show what kind of job you are doing.”
Almost all the SAHMs report that eventually, they were able to redefine their expectations for a job well done, whether or not they eventually returned to the paid work force. Collier ultimately found happiness in her “mother abroad” experience: “Now, I've gotten over the culture shock, learned the language, and become comfortable in my stay-at-home world.”
In fact, many college-educated, formerly career-minded mothers were pleasantly surprised by how much creativity and pleasure they found in their new duties as SAHMs. Laura “I did not realize how much of my physical, emotional, and creative energies were committed at work until I was able to use 100% of those energies at home.”
Michele explains, “I tried to take housework and cooking to the ‘next level’ and make it special, whether it be a nicer meal or a new way to arrange the furniture, or whatever…. I enjoy working inside the home much more than outside the home.”
Bank accounts, but no paychecks, with their names attached
It is not surprising that monetary issues create stress when one parent’s income doesn’t seem adequate; however, the money-related stress extends even to families with balanced budgets. Many respondents who thoroughly enjoy their SAHM roles report that it is difficult to part with their breadwinner roles, regardless of their partners’ earnings. They value their own mothering work, but many still feel guilty spending money—and the source of that guilt is themselves as much or more than their spouses’.
Sciortino says, “Thankfully, my husband and I have never fought about money. I imagine that could be a huge source of strain otherwise. I just feel better about spending money when I’m adding to our bank accounts--whatever small amount it may be. “
It should be noted that the majority of respondents expressed a long-term preference for part-time paid work, a compromise lifestyle of sorts. Not surprisingly, when they describe the decision to seek paid work on their terms eventually, the word “flexibility” appears again and again.
Laurie writes, “I wouldn’t go back to working full-time, because my husband and I feel it’s important for my daughter to be with me most of the time during these early years…. I also wouldn’t go back to being a full-time SAHM, because my daughter needs the socialization of being with other children and the experience of being away from Mommy and Daddy to build her independence.”
Challenges aside, “no regrets” is a common theme for mothers with diverse work and care giving experience. After adapting their budgets, sources of motivation, relationships, and skills, they take their life lessons to heart as they move into the future with their families. Katie echoes the sentiments of several respondents: “I love being back at work, but I also would not have traded the first year I had at home with my daughter….I feel lucky that I had that SAHM experience, but I have no regrets about my decision to go back to work full time.”
Ultimately, each mother had to find a very personal, unique sense of balance, a balance that lasts only until her next major transition. Dawn is an example of a formerly employed SAHM who knows that there is more “sequencing” to come: “I still have a desire to make my own money and use my talents, so I am trying to figure out what is next.” Kauffman concurs: “I don't think I'll be an at-home mom, forever, though. I feel some part of me is missing, and one day I'll be ready to reclaim that part.”
Going between full-time paid work as a mom to full-time care giving, and often back again, echoes the dramatic transformations of pregnancy. The resilience demonstrated by mothers passing through these whiplash transitions rival the highs and lows of the adoption process. The moms surveyed made the most of various life stages with resourcefulness and extreme flexibility, through some very stressful times. Lifestyle changes will always be part of parenting, and the 65 respondents seem very much up to extreme transitions with no handbook to guide them. Yet many of those who have experienced both extremely demanding full-time jobs and sometimes isolated mothering make it clear that in the future, no matter what combination of duties comprises their week, their ideals are forever sharpened to include what inspires them, what motivates them, and what fits their own unique family’s values.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Mommy's Getting Radicalized
I schlepped the girls home, in the below zero wind chill, from dinner at a friend's one night this week, and as I used my real body to park in our real driveway, I noticed an enormous, glossy, semi-pornographic female image hanging from the front door. It looked like a Hustler image--a woman with lips parted, heavy eye makeup, apparently climaxing while wearing boxing gloves. Was this some bad joke, I wondered? No, just an ad for some new LA Fitness locations opening in our area.
Sometimes you don't know which straw will break a mother's back. This particular straw inspired some e-mail and phone call rants to the direct mail distributors, LA Fitness, and our local newspaper editorial column. I don't know if it's a good thing or not, but my six year-old can do a pretty good imitation of a feminist's tantrum. It makes me proud, and embarrassed all at the same time.
But bless my dear husband's heart for agreeing to list his name on the editorial alongside mine--he understood that my opinions might be accepted better with a male stamp of approval included. On that note, I heard about a study this week that feminists and their feminist husbands have happier relationships than couples who don't identify with feminism. I was quick to tell my dh about that one.
We're not joining LA Fitness anytime soon. We are, however, walking down to the local outdoor ice rink at least twice a week, the four of us skating and playing ice hockey. Neither of us has a six-pack or a butt worth photographing yet, but it still feels pretty good.
Sometimes you don't know which straw will break a mother's back. This particular straw inspired some e-mail and phone call rants to the direct mail distributors, LA Fitness, and our local newspaper editorial column. I don't know if it's a good thing or not, but my six year-old can do a pretty good imitation of a feminist's tantrum. It makes me proud, and embarrassed all at the same time.
But bless my dear husband's heart for agreeing to list his name on the editorial alongside mine--he understood that my opinions might be accepted better with a male stamp of approval included. On that note, I heard about a study this week that feminists and their feminist husbands have happier relationships than couples who don't identify with feminism. I was quick to tell my dh about that one.
We're not joining LA Fitness anytime soon. We are, however, walking down to the local outdoor ice rink at least twice a week, the four of us skating and playing ice hockey. Neither of us has a six-pack or a butt worth photographing yet, but it still feels pretty good.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
The Family Jungle at Christmastime
I'm struck every Christmas that I really couldn't tell you definitively who is and isn't part of our family. With whom do we have meaningful connections?
It's a little gray, really. I spent tonight driving 40 miles round-trip to visit my step niece-in-law and her premature twins at a hospital, per the request of her concerned mother and auntie. Technically former step niece-in-law, as my husband's stepmom passed away some years ago. Until tonight, I didn't know these little twins' mom was expecting again. Meanwhile, I don't receive or send a single Christmas card from any of my 63 Irish-American first cousins. Who is family, and who isn't?
This is a Mexican-American family that wears their hearts on their sleeves. They give and expect family loyalty from even shirttail relations. I have to say: I like their style. It's not my birth family's style by any stretch, but I like it.
It's become very apparent that the holidays are stressful for many people, not just cocoa and gift wrapping--between my husband and me, we have one good friend hospitalized with depression; one grandparent hospitalized with a stroke; one baby step nephew seriously ill; one great step aunt recovering from surgery; and one uncle hospitalized with a heart attack. The holidays can be hard on families!
I doubt I'll ever be able to make a list of exactly who I consider our family, but I do hope it's a list that will grow, not shrink, over time. We watched the fascinating documentary Sicko recently, and I'm struck that Americans are so busy working and trying to take care of their families singlehandedly, with very few social supports, that we have little opportunity to enjoy our nuclear families, let alone former step-nieces-in-law in their times of need. I'm hoping to learn some more lessons from this particular branch of our family forest!
It's a little gray, really. I spent tonight driving 40 miles round-trip to visit my step niece-in-law and her premature twins at a hospital, per the request of her concerned mother and auntie. Technically former step niece-in-law, as my husband's stepmom passed away some years ago. Until tonight, I didn't know these little twins' mom was expecting again. Meanwhile, I don't receive or send a single Christmas card from any of my 63 Irish-American first cousins. Who is family, and who isn't?
This is a Mexican-American family that wears their hearts on their sleeves. They give and expect family loyalty from even shirttail relations. I have to say: I like their style. It's not my birth family's style by any stretch, but I like it.
It's become very apparent that the holidays are stressful for many people, not just cocoa and gift wrapping--between my husband and me, we have one good friend hospitalized with depression; one grandparent hospitalized with a stroke; one baby step nephew seriously ill; one great step aunt recovering from surgery; and one uncle hospitalized with a heart attack. The holidays can be hard on families!
I doubt I'll ever be able to make a list of exactly who I consider our family, but I do hope it's a list that will grow, not shrink, over time. We watched the fascinating documentary Sicko recently, and I'm struck that Americans are so busy working and trying to take care of their families singlehandedly, with very few social supports, that we have little opportunity to enjoy our nuclear families, let alone former step-nieces-in-law in their times of need. I'm hoping to learn some more lessons from this particular branch of our family forest!
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