Cousin Sylwia makes me think about what I write and why. I’m not sure if this is intentional on her part, if she is just that kind of person, or if she just doesn’t know me as well as my sister and best friends do. There are two parts to this: Why do I mother how I do? (faith and practicality) and Why do I write the way I do about how I mother? (guilt, Kant, humor).
On mommy blogs there seems to be two kinds of moms: 1) happy-go-lucky moms who are unrelentingly positive about mothering experiences (I imagine Cousin Sylwia of “what’s so hard about staying-at-home” fame in this camp) and 2) cynical moms (like those un-supermoms in a previous post) who take a more jaundiced approach. My attitude toward mothering falls somewhere in between. It is the best of jobs and the worst of jobs. And if you don’t know “what’s so hard about staying-at-home,” then God bless you and may you never find out. 
I think I’ve explained why I mother and “stay-at-home” in plentiful detail. So: Why do I write the way I do about how I mother? First, the guilt: I know I could do better. Some days I have no desire to do better even though I know I could. That makes me feel guilty. Not guilty enough to do better, but guilty enough to express it on my blog.
Second, Immanuel Kant. (I take full responsibility for any inaccuracies in my understanding of his philosophy, though I did get an A in my History of Civilizations course in which we spent at least 2 days on Kant, so I am really an expert). Kant’s valuation of morality took into account inclination and action. An increasing scale of morality begins with 1) inclination for wrong, wrong action, 2) inclination for right, wrong action, 3) inclination for right, right action, and ends with 4) inclination for wrong, right action.
I might have numbers 1 and 2 mixed up, but the main point that has haunted me for eight years is that he considered people to be most moral when they did the right thing even though they were inclined to do the wrong. In my Christian theology, it is more moral to become the sort of person who both desires to do right and does it. In my twisted inner self, it seems really righteous to suppress bad desires and do right.
Third, humor. I think a lot of things, including my own thoughts, are really funny. I’m sorry if others don’t. I hope they find a lot of other things to be funny. Maybe it would help if I threw in some smiley faces and LOLs to indicate some irony on my part. But I know that if you have to explain humor then it wasn’t funny in the first place, so I will work on that.
This is all to say that I don’t think I am merely seeking positive reinforcement about my mothering on this blog. Of course, it is life-affirming to me to hear that other mothers struggle with the same feelings of guilt and inadequacy that I do at times. But if I were solely seeking reassurance, that would make me insecure (right?), and I hope I am not. I think it’s kind of like my weight. I grumble (well, I used to — until I heard Sally repeating my lament) about being fat, but I don’t think I would do anything to draw attention to it if I weighed twice what I do.
It’s the same with my mothering and my children. I might complain seven ways to Sunday about my kids, but all it takes is five minutes with anyone else’s children (except yours, of course ), for me to be ever-so-grateful that I have my children and mine alone. Ditto on my husband and ditto on myself. I hope everyone else feels the same way about their kid(s), husband, and self.
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Man, you do have a twisted inner self. To my philosophically uneducated self the ultimate goal is to be like God, which means all good – inclinations and actions. I guess I can see why Kant would think it’s nobler to do good when it’s hard, than when it’s easy since you are already inclined. Maybe.
Obviously I think you are funny, and even “ironical” and maybe everyone else will eventually if they keep reading your blog. Being with you in person sure helps though and I miss that!
I think sometimes it’s all about the validation. You and I go back and forth about our shortcomings and I think, “Well, I know Shannon is a good mom, and if her shortcomings are similar to mine then I must be a good mom too!”
I know you were talking to me when you said (except yours). But wait, you don’t even like boys… are you saying my kids make you feel grateful for yours? Thanks a lot, Shannon. (Should I add the smiley face in now to show I’m kidding? Which one?)
Shannon, I love reading your blog, partly because your style often makes it difficult to distinguish the irony from the humor from the passion — they seem to weave together, in and out, sometimes one or more overlapping, sometimes not. This is very effective, and even occasionally markedly charitable, espcially in dealing with sentiments with which you disagree. Somehow Glenn Beck comes to mind, as when he so endearingly addresses his audience as “ya sick, twisted freaks,” and the audience feels welcomed and warmed (I believe he is mimicking his own detractors. But I’m not saying you do that. It is just in the same vein, somehow).
Sometimes as I read you I think wow, you have really matured and have become so much more kind. I mean that in the best possible way, and honest, I wish to emulate. The snappy clever cutting come-back is low, whereas the charitable, insightful, seeking-to-understand-reply is high, and a more worthy accomplishment. You do it well. Keep it up!
I agree with the others, I see what you write as a combination of self-depricating humor (which is not a device to inspire pity, but to show a lack of conceit and a desire to relate to others) and a scholastic curiosity of human nature. When you ask “why do I do such and such” I don’t think you’re asking about yourself, but about your peers the world around.
I used to be one of the more cynical bloggers, but I have gossipy in-laws. If I say anything negative at all it gets blown out of proportion. I wrote a blog last Christmas about how I lament the fact that the tradition of sending Christmas cards is going away. You would not believe the mayhem that ensued! OMG! Major family feud resulted! “I really wish Max would potty train and learn to speak better” became “get Max to the neurologist! There’s something horribly wrong with him!” Anything I say that expresses any form of discontent becomes gossip fodder.
Also from reading others’ blogs, I’ve found that after awhile, if the writer does nothing but complain (like one that always complains about her financial circumstances, another that blames everything that goes wrong on anyone but herself, and another that suffers from bi-polar disorder and both uses that as an excuse and goes on and on about the what it’s like to live that way, never anything positive), I simply don’t want to read their blog anymore. Of course everyone has issues they’d like to discuss and everyone is down once in awhile, but there are many people that just milk it for attention and it gets very old. Definitely not you Shannon!
Then I heard about that pastor with the “complaint bracelets.” If you’re unfamiliar, you put a bracelet on your arm and every time you catch yourself complaining you move it to the other arm. You do that until you can keep it on one arm for 21 days and have thereby established a new habit. That made me wonder how much complaining I do, and how much negativity I generate to others.
So I resolved to always write in a positive light. I don’t write when I’m angry or stressed anymore, and if I do have something I want to bring up that isn’t all rainbows and sunbeams I try to make it uplifting and positive anyway, it is possible. I think this not only improves my blog, but improves me as a person as it changes my way of thinking. Obviously I haven’t perfected this, but that’s my goal when I write. I think this is something you do naturally, so I can’t see the same things Sylwia does, but I do believe she is trying to be supportive and uplifting herself.
I think you’re funny, Shannon and your posts are interesting (and fun) to read. I obviously don’t always write positive things all the time on my blog but I hope when people read my blog they also see how much I love my boys and love being a mom.
Tara–i know, it’s twisted, but at least i’m aware of it, right? if i were sure to get boys like yours, i might want one, but, how are yours aim-wise? or is it too early to tell yet?
Dad–i hope that my good opinion is as important to my kids as yours is to me. thanks for the compliments. i’m having fun right now composing (mentally) my post for MMSM: Father in June. i hope you still like my blog after that.
Marie–i’m enjoying our conversations on here. i’ve always felt so connected to the written word, and i’m glad we did meet in person before you moved, but now that we’ve been back-and-forth on here, i feel like i know so much more about you. and i like how you think about things.
i agree with what you say about not writing when angry or stressed. that’s what i was thinking would be good when trying to conceptualize the MMSM thing–that when i’m in the mode of thinking “how can i make this sound funny/interesting on my blog,” i see the funny side to things rather than just the mundane or stressful side.
Cousin Sylwia sends out great emails chronicling her doings with her 4 kids and her husband (who was one of my favorite cousins growing up). they are often funny, and her activities with her kids are very inspiring. i think i would like to have her as a mom! i’ve been telling her she needs to start a blog; i think a lot of people would find her stories interesting.
Adrianne–i can tell you love your boys (even though you’d much rather have girls, of course
).
Hi Shannon
sorry that I don’t get your jokes. like you said it’s probably because I don’t know you well enough.
Marie said that she hopes that I try to be uplifting and supportive when I write. I certainly don’t want to be unsupportive and not uplifting, but there is a fine balance between expressing yourself and being real and not saying anything at all because you want to sound nice.
the reason why I brought up the good/bad mom thing with you is because there is a real plague in our church when it comes to guilt and insecurity. almost all of the moms I know are wonderful moms. the best moms anyone could ever want, and yet a lot of them feel that they are bad moms and that they are never good enough. many hate coming to church on mother’s day because of all of the guilt that they feel that they are not perfect.
i think that’s ridiculous. I would like to communicate to these moms that not only are they good enough but that they are the best mom’s in the world. besides the basics, they stay at home, and love their children ,and teach them right from wrong. to me that makes a practically perfect mom.
Now I realize that you were just joking and there was not a need for my tirade. But hopefully it helped some other mom.
sylwia
Thanks for your thoughts, Sylwia. Even if Shannon doesn’t need them, I agree with you that there are many mothers out there who do. I hope some of them will read them and take them to heart. I agree with what you say about the plague on women in our church. It doesn’t hit all, of course, but so many. I think it’s not just about being a good mom, but about feeling the need to be perfect at all the roles of women: daughter, sister, wife, mother, friend, housekeeper, cook, etc. along with all our church responsibilites. It is easy to get overwhelmed. Hopefully I find my balance toward wife and mother – they are the most important to me.
(Once you get used to Shannon’s sarcasm and “ironical” ways, she’s pretty dang funny. You two should get together once your family moves to Georgia.)
(Dang it, Shannon! I just looked up “ironical” and it really is a word. Can’t you just substitute “ironic” though?)
Ironical sounds funny to me too.
Sylwia–i think Marie meant that she thought your comments were supportive and uplifting to me already (you are certainly entertaining and uplifting in your emails). i do agree with you and tara that we need to not promote guilt or anything, especially at church. i really liked some lesson on humility once, because the idea was that if you are truly humble, you can’t/shouldn’t feel guilty about not being perfect, because, obviously, you’re too humble to think you should be. i think when Christ says “be ye therefore perfect,” we need to remember that some women might take that in an all or nothing sort of way.
there’s a great Tori Amos song that includes the lyric “Got enough guilt to start my own religion.”
Marcy and Tara–i almost used the word “ironicalness” in this post, but then i realized i could just say “irony.”
there is one thing that bothers me about this discussion. if most issues that shannon brings up are just jokes, than i will have a hard time responding. one should laugh at at joke and not write a serious opinion in response, which is what I have been doing.
sylwia
Sylwia,
did you see my dad’s comment to this post? if i ever get famous, i’m going to hire him as my spokesman! i’m supremely happy that my dad “gets” me after almost 30 years of negotiation.
when i was first thinking of how to write this post, i was going to say something like, “i’m anywhere from 50-95% joking on some things and 5-50% serious” but i couldn’t figure out what the percentages should be or how they should overlap–do they have to equal 100?
my original post, “Two looks at how we become mothers,” was probably poorly conceived on my part. It contained two very serious stories, and then really, i made light of it at the end — made light of the doctor’s concern over her patient not breastfeeding by expressing my not-whole-hearted regret over not nursing lucy (who is in the 95th percentile for weight) 10 times that day.
what i mean to say is that i am joking and being serious at the same time. not that i think i’m so subtle. but i try to be subtle. on the breastfeeding thing, for example, on the one hand, i think it’s heinous that that patient of the FPMama didn’t want to try it at all and on the other hand, i think it’s ridiculous when people breastfeed beyond a certain age (like 1 1/2 or so) or co-sleep at night so they can be gnawed on 24-7 (if you co-sleep for a different reason, it’s still not for me, but if it works for you and yours, great!). maybe i will just alienate everyone by not “getting” either extreme.
i hope you won’t stop responding here AND i hope you can start thinking i’m funny, but i guess we can’t force either of those things.
i enjoy reading your comments even when i feel a bit misunderstood, and if you enjoy reading my posts then i think eventually we will understand each other better. but if you never laugh (smile? feel a wry twist of the lips?), then probably you are not enjoying them much?