“There will be so many times you feel like you’ve failed. But in the eyes, heart, and mind of your child you are super mom.”
I read an online article a week or so ago, maybe longer, (is time even a thing anymore?) with the headline 37 Things to Do Before the Lock-Down Ends.
I’m not sure what I expected when I read through the list, but if I was looking for something, I didn’t find it. I walked away feeling more disappointed than inspired.
There were a lot of cleaning and organizing projects recommended, which are all well and good, but I suppose I was hoping for more. Like, ideas that fell somewhere between See if You Can Sit Long Enough to Convince Your Fit-Bit That You Died and Write the Next Great American Novel.
To be honest, most of what was listed are things I spent my pre-coronapocalypse life doing. I’m a bit, um, OCD’ish, so my house already looks like no one lives here, and the only thing I have left to donate are organs.
I can make my own bread and my eight-year-old commandeered my Spotify account a long time ago, so I’ve already got all twenty-seven (yeah, you read that right) of his carefully cultivated and labeled playlists downloaded on every one of my devices.
As for the rest of the suggestions, meh….I’m too busy learning how to do second grade math and trying to snag curbside grocery pick-up time slots online to start my own You Tube channel, or learn a new language.
Really though, I think the issue is that I can’t live in someone else’s list. I’m desperate to find ways to make this time count for something that matters; in ways big and small. I want to be able to look back on this time with some gratitude for the way its forced me to slow down.
I want to come out of this feeling like I’ve learned something from the experience and that I’m better for it. I want to feel like I contributed to something.
But, I also I think I’ve come to understand that while we are all in the same storm, we aren’t in the same boat. How we are each spending this time, how we have the ability and the means to spend this time, has to be about feeding our own individual needs and deciding for ourselves what is purposeful, or, let’s be honest, just base level doable and tolerable and necessary some days. And shouldn’t that be enough?
No. The answer is no. At least not if you’re a parent.
Because apparently, there are some people….and let’s be honest here, we women mostly….who can’t even let a pandemic happen without the need to turn it into a parenting competition with defined quarantine philosophies and systems.
Listen, I have never understood the mommy wars. Who-TF is winning? Is there a score card somewhere to refer to?
Are the Helicopter moms trailing the Free Range moms because their kids don’t know how to hail a cab, or throat punch a stranger? Are the helicoptered kids destined to become adults who are easily lured into curtained conversion vans with signs advertising free candy?
Are the breast feeding moms raising super human children? The kind who only get into Ivy league colleges and are immune to every disease that has ever diseased, while the formula feeding moms have children who wear Velcro shoes into adulthood and suffer from eternal ear infections and adult diaper rash?
Side note: Has anyone considered breast milk as a cure for COVID-19? Can’t you use it for everything from sunburns and wrinkles, to bio-fuel?
Are the Working-Outside-The-Home moms lapping the Work-At-Home/Stay-AT-Home moms (I don’t even know what the acceptable PC term is anymore), because studies show their kids are more independent and can go with the flow and cook a four course meal by the time they are five, and balance the family checkbook, AND take the family car out to pick-up milk and cereal and wine by aged ten?
OR, are the WAH/SAH moms screaming, “Eat my dust” out of the moon-roofs of their mini-vans, because their kids know what it means to be really loved?
And what’s the prize, assuming someone is declared the winner at some point? Is there a trophy, or a cash prize? Or, is turning out the winning breed of child the prize? And when we will know who won? When adults stop complaining about all the ways in which their parents failed them and how they swear to do better? Will that EVER happen? I think, no.
It wasn’t that long ago that smoking cigarettes and having the occasional glass of scotch was considered A-OK during pregnancy.
My parents brought me home from the hospital riding shot-gun, nestled in a dresser drawer.
My brother and I used to roll around in the cab of pickup trucks going highway speeds down rural roads, driven by our parents….and we weren’t the only ones.
I rode my bike without a helmet, swam unsupervised and my siblings and I were left alone in hot cars while our parents and grandparents casually walked every grocery store aisle while socializing and shopping for a full months worth of groceries….was that a big deal? NO, because back then, you could roll down the windows without turning on the car.
When I was in elementary school, you could still get sent to the principals office for a spanking. Hell, even elderly neighbors we pissed off were allowed to take a shot if they could catch us and the only thing parents ever had to say about it was, “Get your shoes on, you’re going over there to apologize.”
It seems to me, that parenting lends itself to evolution. Each generation tweaks the process and tries to be a little bit better….and repeat, infinity times. So why are we so desperate to force our kids and our parenting into specifically defined boxes, instead of just trusting our instincts?
I get the need to want to connect with other parents. It’s a hard job, for everyone, and it’s nice to find like-minded moms and dads to compare notes with. But the second a self-proclaimed parenting expert Mommy Blogger, whose only credentials are that she’s given birth more times than I have, starts in with all the directives about all the ways we should and should not be raising our children, based on literally nothing other than the x-number of years of parenting she’s got under her belt, I’m out.
I mean, can we agree that definitely NO ONE knows what the hell they are doing right now? Unless you were raising kids during the Black Death, or the Spanish Influenza?
So, to anyone who might be reading this and feeling like all those other ladies have their shit together and you should too….Or, you’re feeling like you wish you could at least be as effortlessly cool as all those moms who have made not having their shit together a trend….for whatever it’s worth, because I don’t know shit from crap….I think you’re killing it.
If homeschooling makes you feel like you are on the verge of staring in your own episode of Snapped, so you’ve given up and now you’re kids are watching TV and playing video games all day. Or, maybe you lock them outside in your own backyard for the full length of a school day….whatever. You’re doing awesome. Your kids will be fine.
If you love a schedule and so you’ve created elaborate, color coded daily itineraries….and by the second day of the lockdown you had built your own backyard schoolhouse out of yard debris with your barehands….and you are committed to seeing that your children complete every teacher assigned lesson, AND learn Mandarin, AND how to split an atom by the time school starts up again (God willing) in the fall….you are amazing. Your kids will also be fine.
If you have managed to cook gourmet, wholly organic meals from scratch using ingredients you harvested from your own windowsill gardens and by butchering your own livestock, you are awesome. Your kids will be fine.
If you’re family has been eating a lot of canned goods and dehydrated meals you bought in bulk from Mountain House, because you prepped like you were going to be riding this out in a bomb shelter instead of your house with electricity and a full kitchen. OR, if you guys are eating whatever you can afford to eat right now….that’s great too. You, my friend, are awesome and your kids will also be fine.
If you get up and begin every day with a shower, followed by full hair and makeup and your kids are so pressed and perfect they look like they could start modeling face masks and hazmat suits as soon as they are allowed within six feet of a fashion photographer, you are incredible and your kids will be fine.
If your family has started cycling through seasonal, holiday themed pajamas and Halloween costumes, because laundry sucks and the only people you see anyway are the Amazon, UPS, Fed-EX and USPS delivery drivers through your front window, and you don’t care if they think you’re cute or not….you are incredible. Your kids will be fine.
If you and your family have spent your free time sewing hospital gear for front line workers, delivering meals and supplies to the elderly and vulnerable in your community, coordinated drive-by birthday celebrations for every kid in your town and you’ve cleared every single piece of litter, including cigarette butts, from the highways and byways and national forests within a 50 mile radius of your home….you are rock star. Your kids will totally be fine.
If you got up this morning and that feels good today, you’re a rock star too. Your kids will also be totally fine.
Because here’s what I think….as a mom who swears allegiance to no particular style of parenting and thus knows nothing beyond whatever my own instincts tell me to do on a day to day/hour to hour/minute to minute basis….Do your kids know they are loved?
Because if you’re that mom. You win. ♥