Getting real

The thoughtful post about how our society lets down new mothers and babies by focusing on all the wrong things is, indeed, coming.

But I've been stopped in my tracks by the new and suddenly popular blog, Single Dad Laughing. Despite the name, and his usual lighthearted posts, he has written three hearty, soul-searching posts that have gone viral. If you haven't read them, they are all worth reading, but get the tissues out, because at least one is sure to get you.

Memoirs of a Bullied Kid
You Just Broke Your Child. Congratulations.
The Disease Called Perfection

All three made me feel and think deeply.

While I was never popular, I was also never singled out and targeted, so the first wasn't too painful. It is more the nagging feeling that I could have done more for those who were singled out that bothers me through my adult life. I appreciate this post giving tools to adults and children to try to help those who truly suffer at the hands of others.

I had good parents and I am a good parent, so "You Just Broke Your Child" served me as an excellent reminder of how important I am to my children, even in the little ways. That reminder is not only helpful to keep me in line with being there for them, but also to keep me sane when it feels like I am on a hamster wheel of parenthood.

It was "The Disease Called 'Perfection'" that got to me the most. The raw truth to it was staggering. And as someone who has always been harder on myself than anyone else has been on me, it was a painful mirror.

I also live in one of the most competitive areas in, likely, the world: the San Francisco Bay Area. It's just a part of the culture here to keep up appearances. A dear friend - who is from outside of the US, lived nearby for over a year, and is living in another country entirely now - put it this way: "I hadn't seen people clinging to the illusion of perfection on such a scale anywhere before I moved to California."

The post calls on us to be real. I have always agreed with that - we lock ourselves into despair by believing we're alone in it. It's a catch 22, because the shame of admitting it means we won't ever tell someone else they are not alone, and they will never say the same to us. But except in rare instances with close friends, I have not lived up to my ideals. I have not been brave enough to be real. This post spoke to me and tonight I'm going to tell you some real.

If you've read this blog for a long time, you know how much I love my children. You know the cute things they do and say, and how ridiculously smart they are. All this is true. But the reality is there's more.

Real #1:
My babysitter quit without notice two weeks ago. I sobbed. Not because she was a fabulous babysitter - in fact it's been a bit of a relief having her gone - but because this is the 4th time in 3 months that I am looking for childcare, and this is making me feel like a failure as a mother.

Mothers, whether they work or stay home, see it as their responsibility to raise their children. In our society, fathers may parent well, but mothers raise the children; in the same way, mothers may earn money, but the father carries the burden of supporting the family. (I know this is a generalization but it is also the cultural norm and hard to erase from our psyches, even in families that have chosen to have a working mother and stay at home father.) I carry this weight on my shoulders: to take wonderful care of my children, including making sure they are well taken care of while I am not with them, whether that means they are with their dad, another loved one, or a childcare provider.

I am not living up to my own expectations in finding solid childcare for my children. This is the number one stressor in my life right now. It has even made me think about staying home with my kids - as Mason says, women aren't about to stop having babies. But the trade-off would be greater and more stressful: I would miss my work. I would miss out on what I call my "reset button" (the refocusing I do at births and even at prenatal appointments brings me home refreshed and ready to appreciate what a gift my children are to me). I would be vastly disappointed in myself for leaving my apprenticeship. I would resent my kids for driving me away from my calling. I would feel as though I was failing in different ways, some related to parenting and some to self. None of this would be pretty. None of it would serve my kids better than pushing forward with finding them a new childcare situation, to be strong, reframe "failure" into a past mistake and succeed in the future. That is what I need to do, and while I am struggling with the feelings around this, I am hopeful. I am grateful to have a preceptor who also chose to push through her apprenticeship with small children, because she understands how I can be stressed out about it and yet remain dedicated to midwifery.

Real #2:

Read this list: Cognitive distortions

Eliana has every single one. In massive doses.

I've known she was an intense and passionate little girl for a long time. I've read and re-read the definitions of ADD and ADHD, confirming each time that no, that wasn't what was going on. So what was?

This summer, she got in trouble for something - I can't even remember what it was, normal kid disobedience stuff, and I told her to go wait for me in her room... standard discipline in my house, to separate and then reconnect, talking over the issue after reconnecting. This time, however, when I went to reconnect, she said to me, "You don't like me because I'm ugly."

WHAT???
For those who don't know me, I didn't give that to her.

It is one of my highest priorities and perhaps the biggest output of energy in my life to cope with Eliana's huge personality and guide her through her issues without, as Single Dad Laughing would say, breaking her. She is an incredible kid and it would be horrible to subdue her - to destroy not only the parts of her that hurt herself and others, but the beauty and vibrance that is at her core.

And here's your real: I don't know what to do, and I'm terrified. After finding this list of cognitive distortion, I'm definitely up for counseling, but I don't know how well it's going to work for her. I don't know how to love her any better than I do, I don't know how to help her feel better about herself, more or less discipline ain't gonna help. And here's what scares me the most: cognitive distortion is a prime recipe for depression (if not a symptom of it!) and she hasn't even hit puberty yet. This needs to be ameliorated before hormones are thrown in the mix.

Real #3: Today, I would have really liked not to be the mom. I love these kids so much, but just for one day, I would have liked not to be the one feeling guilty about using friends for childcare, to not be the one doing the nanny interviews, to not be the one who bears responsibility for getting my wonderful, hurting daughter the guidance she needs to become a well-adjusted adult. I'd love to be the auntie for a day and play and love on these children with all my might and none of the weight of parenthood.

For the record, this is not a plea for help fixing these issues; thankfully, I've got plenty of resources and I'm working on it. For me, right now, help looks like your love, support, friendship. It looks like stability wherever I can get it. It looks like grace and understanding when my bandwidth is taken up. It looks like an open heart that can feel the love I have for you even when it comes in small glimpses.

It IS a plea to listen to Single Dad Laughing and get real. Let down your guard. Let's not all pretend to be perfect. You're lovely the way you are.