2006 Archives
DecemberLearning the True Meaning of the Holidays….From My Toddler
Last month as the weather turned cold and my thoughts began to shift from Halloween to the holidays I found myself fretting about how to simultaneously teach my toddler son that Christmas isn’t all about gifts while also giving him a Christmas morning filled with joy and wonder.
A few days later, while I was making lunch, Finn went after our Tupperware cupboard full throttle. As anyone who has spent time with a toddler knows, their definition of “toy” is gloriously wide. I laughed, shaking my head, as I realized that if Christmas morning came and we presented our little guy with a bag of spoons and a metal pot he would be as gleeful as if we had loaded the room with a swing set, a jungle gym and a pony.
This time of year I find it easy to get confused, amid the flurry of holiday catalogs and relentless ads, about what’s really important. I get sucked into believing that the way to show the members of my family just how much I love each of them is by finding them the perfect gift. I start to think that if I just look hard enough, if I just spend enough money they will understand how incredibly important they are to me. I get caught up in the tangible and the material in an effort to express something that is completely intangible, completely immaterial. How am I supposed to teach my son the true meaning of the holidays when I so easily lose sight of it myself?
And then, a few days ago Finn awoke from his afternoon nap to discover our newly decorated Christmas tree gleaming with white lights and brightly colored ornaments and he immediately decided that it was just about the best thing he had ever seen. I put on Here Comes Santa Claus and he began dancing around the living room, laughing with joy.
Watching Finn dancing in the glow of our Christmas tree it occurred to me that he already embodies the spirit of the holidays. He doesn’t worry about shopping or going to the post office or finding the perfect outfit for holiday parties. At this point, he doesn’t even really understand that we’re working up to December 25th, he just embraces what every moment has to offer.
As I began to pay attention, I realized that I could learn a lot from him. For instance;
I understand that in the years to come my son will probably not be so easily satisfied. But this year, as I listened to my son’s laughter as he danced around the living room I realized that the job my husband and I are faced with is not so much to teach our son the true meaning of the holidays as it is to help keep him from forgetting.
November
Is “The Hottest Mom in America” a Better Mother Than You?
I recently received a spam email inviting me to audition for a new television show called “The Hottest Mom in America”. At first, I thought it was kind of funny. I pictured a woman trying to put on liquid eyeliner while her two-year-old pulled at her elbow with maple syrup covered hands. I imagined her going in to find her 5 year-old using her recently-ironed dress as a cape and discovering that her shoes were missing altogether, stolen by her 7 year-old to create obstacles for his monster truck rally.
But when I realized what the show would probably really be like, I got a little cranky. I could almost hear the well-toned women with sparkling white teeth and perfect hair telling the world that they don’t understand why people think it’s so hard to have children and still turn heads at the playground.
Now, on top keeping my 15-month-old safe, happy, well-rested, entertained and relatively clean I am supposed to be “hot”?!? After steaming around the house for awhile, my little guy woke up from his nap and somewhere in the midst of making him lunch, building castles with Legos, going for a walk, playing “spy the squirrel” and chasing him around the backyard I forgot to worry about being hot.
That evening I got to thinking about why the email had bothered me so much and I realized that it played into something that has long frustrated me about motherhood. As mothers, no matter how incredible of a job we’re doing, we still think we should be doing something better. It isn’t enough to see our children growing up happy and well-adjusted, a tiny voice in the back of our heads tells us the house should be cleaner and that we really shouldn’t let the kids watch so much Sesame Street. It tells us that now is the time they should be learning a second language and what about music class?!. While we’re on the subject, the little voice says, I can’t believe you let them eat anything that isn’t organic. What kind of mother are you?!
I think it’s time to let ourselves off the hook. In spite of silly shows like “The Hottest Mom in America”, motherhood is not a competition. At the end of the day no one is going to give you a bouquet of roses and a tiara because you manage to get your kid to 47 activities a week and still somehow get yourself to the gym every once in awhile.
The measure of our success as mothers isn’t how good we look in our jeans, the whiteness of our teeth or the flawlessness of our skin. It’s not even if the kids ate ice-cream for breakfast and spent the morning watching television because we needed a break.
So then, how can we know? What is the true measure of our maternal aptitude? I say that what makes us good moms isn’t the big stuff; our child eventually getting a full-ride to Harvard, playing professional soccer or becoming the youngest CEO in the history of CEOs. No, I think that the true measure of a mom is the things we take for granted, the things we do every day. Like taking a deep breath instead of freaking out when you discover your toddler has dumped finger nail polish on the carpet. Getting up in the middle of the night over and over and over again with sleepless kids and still eventually getting up in the morning. It’s making three different lunches for three different kids because they just can’t all agree on PB&J, Top Ramen or mac & cheese.
Let’s stop beating ourselves up for not being good enough and let’s start congratulating ourselves on the great moms that we are. And that little voice in the back of your head that likes to whisper that you could be doing it better? Ignore it. Instead, listen to the little voice that is whispering in your ear, “I love you, Mama.” It’s coming from a much better judge.
