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With apologies to Bad Mothers everywhere

09.16.09 | motherhood | 41 Comments

Several months ago I wrote an impassioned argument against the Bad Mother Manifesto. I felt that proudly proclaiming oneself a “Bad Mother” as a way of standing up against (admittedly insane though often-projected) societal expectations was unproductive and defensive. I even went so far as to say that the kind of women who couldn’t shrug off such perceived criticism had a weakness of personality and purpose.

I’ve changed my mind.

Honestly, in my eight years of being a mother, I had never experienced the sort of criticism or judgment that these women described as the reason for wanting to carry the Bad Mother banner.

And then I did.

Recently I spent time with a Type-A, Alpha, Helicopter, hyper-focused maternal being who made me feel inadequate, defensive, judged, combative.

I wanted to park my kids in front of Phineas and Ferb for six hours while I gorged on bad carbs and made love to Spot’s leftover disposable diapers.

I wanted to smash her smug face in.

The way some women act, mothering should be an extreme sport or an Olympic event in the constant orchestration of a perfect childhood. And not just “a” perfect childhood, but “the” perfect childhood. With extra marks for each nutritional supplement and organized activity, bonus points for organic cleaning supplies and never desiring a babysitter.

I want to shrug it off. I want to go back to being a good mother and ignoring the corrosive effects of competitive mothering, something I so recently dismissed as easily ignored.

But now I’ve seen it, heard it, felt myself shrinking in and shutting down, giving up on sharing what works for me and mine, I wonder why we women do this.

Is it a female thing?

Do men sneer at the non-homeschoolers as they play pick-up basketball? (Maybe they do, but Tom has never come home wringing his hands over class sizes.)

Is it a cultural thing?

“Society” and the magazines at the doctors, the guests on Oprah, the blogs of perfect mothers, the parenting books by experts, all those things I can easily ignore. But when it’s your friend at the park, your neighbor at church, the checker at the grocery store, a sister or mother or the in-laws, then it is harder to disregard. Especially if that person points out your flaws out of “love” or “concern.”

Or, as C. S. Lewis put it:

Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.

Is it an identity thing?

From the time Sally was one month to eighteen months old, I worked at Columbia while Tom stayed home until his evening classes. I was so happy with that arrangement. My supervisor was supportive of my pumping and condensed schedule, my baby was being cared for by her father, and I was talking with adults every day. Later I was the stay-at-home parent.

That’s been up and down, mostly up, recently, but there’s a huge difference in how I stay at home and how he did. When Tom stayed at home he didn’t join playgroups or sign Sally up for classes. He fed her and napped her and took her to the park. He wrote his novel as he watched her in the baby swing. He put wooden letters from her puzzle on her head and took silly photographs.

Staying at home was what he did, not who he was. As soon as I started staying home, I set out to create a new identity for myself. It wasn’t what I did, it was who I was.

And now I think that was largely the problem.

The good mother/bad mother thing is a female thing because we’re naturally pretty competitive creatures, especially when it comes to our offspring. We fought for power and influence on the playground and now we fight for moral superiority . . . on the playground.

It’s a cultural thing too, because there are all those books and blogs and experts and a national holiday. And because your friend, your neighbor, your sister probably does things differently, and in order to feel a success, the things she does (the things I do) become the better way, the best way, the only way.

And, most of all, for me, it’s an identity thing. Attack my mothering, and you criticize not what I do, but who I am.

If that’s what it takes to be a Good Mother?

I hope there’s room in the Bad Mother tent.

totally unrelated, but fun to read

41 Comments

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