Like many folks I tuned in to watch Oprah’s show yesterday. I did so because I wanted to see my friend Karen of Chookooloonks since I knew she was going to be featured. As usual, she didn’t disappoint. She was easily the funniest woman on the show and I can even picture her doing her Crazy Mom impersonation because I, too, have acted in that same play. Matinees every weekend. Bring a little extra money for snacks.
You want me to feel bad for you because you have to drive a minivan? Sorry, not gonna happen. There was a time when I had three children under 10 and I desperately needed and wanted one but couldn’t afford it until a few years later.
I wanted to tell some of the people I know that being crushed about the sex of your baby was a nauseating premise. You need sympathy because you can’t add that one perfect sex to your brood? No way, because I’ve experienced a hurt like that first hand from my oldest daughter’s sperm donor. His wife carelessly told us that after having a daughter of their own they were going to try again because he “really wants a son.” Hey, thanks for making my precious daughter who was already abandoned by him feel worthless. Each time I gave birth I had healthy children with the appropriate number of limbs and toes and vital organs. I am going to be forever grateful for that.
You want sympathy because you ran out of diapers and had to use maxi-pads and tape? Congratulations is in order! You are creative and resourceful! That’s not a “confession” to me so much as ingenuity.
The motherhood game is played by those who choose to enter. Not everyone signs up for parenthood in the same way but once we’re in the game some of us hit the ground running and some of us long so much for the life we lost that we fail to see the humor and pure joy in everyday challenges of parenting. Mothering. I’m not in competition with anyone else for this. The prize at the end is the same: we have well-adjusted, kind, loving, caring human beings that we’ve raised while doing the best we can. Don’t get me wrong. There was a time when I allowed myself to feel bad but that was because I was doing the comparing. I was trying to walk as fast as the other mother at the park with her super cool stroller. Not long into that race I sighed, let out an audible, “pppfffftttt” and said FORGET IT. NOT. WORTH IT.
…………………………………….
That was the beginning of something I wrote the other day. I have yet to finish it. The thoughts are still swirling in my head about watching that show, but then something happened today that made me rethink it. I wanted to chastise mothers who are always whining about what they have and what they don’t have. But instead I think I’ll just remind myself that life is precious.
Maddie Alice Spohr died today. She was just a wee one. Her mom writes a blog entitled “The Spohrs Are Multiplying” and, while the site has been down much of today because of the server issues, there are many other places to see about Maddie. I’ve spent a great deal of the day thinking about her family. This morning, when I read that she passed away, I spent several hours reading the archives of her rough entrance into this world and the many pictures her lovely momma took of her. As much as I wanted to post a picture here I just don’t feel right stealing one. [edited to add photo] Please go visit and see what love was brought into this world.
Be kind to your children. Be kind to your loved ones. Be kind to your sisterhood. Tell people that you love them.
If you are so inclined, please make a donation to the March for Babies instead of sending flowers. Meghan at “A Mom Two Boys” has some great pictures up, too.
{ 21 comments… read them below or add one }
Great post…thank you for it.
And I look forward to the ending of your first one, because so far I am right there with you.
I will be visiting the other sites as well, this has truly been some sad news.
i loveyou.
Beautiful and poignantly so true.
And to think that earlier today, before I found out about beautiful Maddie’s passing, I was complaining about what a PITA dealing with my little girl’s curly hair is. I know better. Dammit, I know better. I know this pain…this loss, this agony. I know better.
This afternoon after learning about Maddie I have hardly let go of the Little Imp. I have Maddie’s flickr page open yet I can barely breath through the tears as I gaze at those amazingly blue eyes and that awesome smile.
Great post. Beautiful.
Her friend posted on Twitter that Heather is fine with people using a picture on their blogs. She said that Heather is partial to the ones with Maddie in the yellow dress.
Thank you for taking to task the complaining that happened during Oprah yesterday, because in the light of a new day, we know that minivans, poop, and exhaustion do not trump the biggest loss a parent can suffer. I think that the online mom community is in agony knowing what Heather and her family are going through. It sets straight what is important and it isn’t a shower or a workout, it is our babies. I would also like to see the end of your Oprah post, but know that it will be framed differently now.
NYCity Mama – I’m not sure I had much more to say! Because I stopped abruptly and wasn’t able to come back to it. But I’ll try.
jennster – You know I have mad love for you, sister. Especially on the motherhood front.
Auds – I haven’t closed the flickr page for the entire day. I just keep looking at them. Those EYES. They pierce me. Kiss the Little Imp.
Daddy Dan – Since I’ve looked at them all day I know just the one. I’ll think about adding that. Thanks.
Allyson – That’s a perfect way to say it. It will be framed differently. I think we need to, as a sisterhood of mothers, remember what’s really important. Get to the heart, ladies.
I’m feeling better about posting this. I was going to scrap that first one completely.
I missed Oprah, and I was really upset that I missed seeing Karen et al — until I heard reviews of the show from other bloggers.
But Maddie — she changes our outlook. In her short life, she gave her parents such joy. Now such pain, but only because she was so loved and so intensely lovable.
Love you for mentioning her.
Daisy – I know people pass all the time. This one seemed to just really hit hard. I don’t even care about the “why” of that, either. It hurts, damnit. Love always does.
beautiful tribute… beautiful words. today has hurt like hell.
What Jennster said x27,540,492.
As an older mommy who never had a cordless phone (they weren’t invented then) or mini van (station wagons de rigeur in the early 80s), the whining that I heard from younger moms raised my hackles. Did my generation raise women who don’t get it? Is it really supposed to be all about me? I know that being up to your ankles in little ones is hard, hard work, but it doesn’t last forever. It’s a season of live, and it passes in the blink of an eye. Maybe only age gives you that perspective, or the death of a precious little child.
Linda – You are dead on! The issue, then, is how were we raised to be complainers? So many answers on that one. So much to consider. But there is some part of it that makes me want to scream at that notion that we could have it all. We bought that line. We believed it. And we got pissed about having to do it all. At least I did.
I hope I don’t have to wait for age to gain that perspective. I want it now.
God bless you for this wonderful article! I was feeling sad today remembering losing my baby, and something about not feeling all alone is helpful. I want to tell her mother that she’s not alone, but I think it’s too soon. This is a club that nobody wants to join.
People handle stress differently. I’m a whiner and I’m the first to admit it – I complain when I’m stressed or disappointed or grumpy or just because…and I’ve found that just venting it, putting words to the feeling, makes it easier to move through and move on to other things in my life. I don’t expect people to feel sorry for me or do anything for me, it’s just part of my process. In fact, when I STOP complaining is when you really need to worry about me because that’s when something is REALLY wrong – when things are too big for me to put words to.
And I know it annoys the crap out of some people and I can sympathize – but that’s me. I can tone it down a bit but swallowing all of that frustration I’ve found isn’t good for me. Been there, done that…no thanks.
But doing that level of whining on a TV show? Yeeeeeahhhhh. I don’t know what to make of that. Of course I didn’t see the show so that could be part of the problem.
I’m sorry about your friends and their little girl. I wrote about the Oprah stuff first because that’s easy, but dealing with a death is one of the few times where words are useless. Or maybe it’s just that *I* have no words that are useful…and, sadly, they’ve yet to figure out how to make a hug conveyable over the Internet.
Thanks for your post, I’m right there with you!! Motherhood is a job that brings me to my knees but I’m so thankful for it!
My prayers go out to your friends for their little girl. I’m so sad for them.
Windi
I took a peek at your post today because of the grief that everyone is feeling over the passing of such a precious little girl. It absolutely puts sooooo many things in perspective.
But, as for the Oprah show: Where is the line between complaining and healthy venting? I ask this because this is a constant DAILY maelstrom inside my mind right now. If I talk about it, I run the risk of being judged, being told that my thoughts are invalid. If I don’t talk about it, I may never find the right solutions to become a better mother, and just as importantly, a better person my children can be proud of when they’re older. Sure, there were several women on the show that I totally couldn’t relate to their stories, yet I realized I understood the underlying roots of their concerns & complaints.
In rereading what I wrote yesterday, I understand that the tone seems a bit harsh, and for that, I apologize.
Angie, I think venting with friends and trying to find out how others manage life with little ones is a necessity. However, lately I seem to be reading and hearing about more and more moms who use large social forums to complain about being mothers. It’s such a wild ride to be a young parent. It is a never ending series of adjustments and balancing acts, and just when you get it figured out, the kids hit another stage, add extra activities to their lives, and you have to start all over. But that’s kind of life. I’m pretty glad my kids won’t have a written journal of the days on which I stressed out because of their behaviors or our wild and wooly days together.
My daughter is a new mom, and we talk every week about how difficult it is to be a good wife, mom and teacher. I encourage her, let her blow off steam, share her joys and give advice when asked. There are many new moms at my school to whom I also offer encouragement. Though I love technology and would be lost without the conveniences it provides, It would be nice if everyone could have these conversations face to face, rather than in public forums that are digitally documented forever.
“The motherhood game is played by those who choose to enter. Not everyone signs up for parenthood in the same way but once we’re in the game some of us hit the ground running and some of us long so much for the life we lost that we fail to see the humor and pure joy in everyday challenges of parenting. ”
Yep, yep and yep! Could not agree more with you.
so cuteeeeeeeeeeeee
The sex of a child thing makes my head explode. People ALWAYS say to me, (about Eva) “Oh, you got your girl” or, “So, you adopted so you could have a girl.”
It’s simply not true and I bitched about back in April of 2006 – http://kkfast.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html – but I have gotten used to the stupid things people say about adoptive families… I wish they would simply say, “Cool… you’re a lucky mom.” but, maybe next year.
As for the Oprah show… well, it’s always easier to go up than down, right? It’s easier to complain than make changes, to settle rather than reach to be snarky and funny rather than genuine and goofy.
A little bitching and moaning is part of life… when it’s how you make your living and at the expense of your child, then it’s a little f*cked up.