August 23rd, 2010
A Different Kind of Mommy War
I actually try to stay far away from the Mommy Wars thing. We all do our thing and do the best we can do, at least that’s what we hope. But I have to admit that secretly in my head I’ve always felt I’m in competition with one particular mom – MY mom. Last week I was reading a post over on Hybrid Mom, about who the better mother is. And I posted a long comment. And in that moment, my first thought was that of course I’m a better mom. But since then I have thought and thought about it.
Am I a better mother than my mom? NOPE. Just like in the media’s version of mommy wars, every mom has to do things in her own way, the best way she can. My mom may not have lived up to my idealized version of what my childhood should have been. She may not be a stereotypical grandma who babysits or plasters pictures of her grandsons all over her house. But I do think she was as great a mom as she could be given her circumstances and the time and place she grew up and learned to be a mom.She still struggles with the consequences of some of her choices, but that is for her to own. For me, I really have to ditch the competition concept and just worry about making the best choices I can. I have to love my kids, try to help them through the terrifying growing up process and hope that when they are all done growing up, they appreciate the choices, the sacrifices and can see the grand scheme of things, instead of focusing on little hurts and disappointments. hope that when my kiddos are criticizing me for my parenting failures, of which I am sure there will be many, that they can look deeper and see that I did my best with what I had available to me.
What else can any of us do? We can’t be perfect moms and it’s only with hindsight that we see exactly how the ripple effect of each choice we made played out. It’s easy to look back at what my mom did and think she could have done something differently. But in the moment? How often do you really see in any exact moment, in any particular choice, how it’s going to affect six choices five years later?
So for me, there is no better mom. There is only one mom to me, and only one mom to my kiddos. And we each are full of love and hope for the future. That has to be enough.
August 13th, 2010
Sugar Shock
I have always loved sugar. Who doesn’t?!! Ok, some people maybe, but I am a sugar-aholic. I also am 25 pounds overweight and tired and cranky far too much. So I’m going to try an experiment and try to cut out almost all sugar. It’s going to be rough I suspect. But I’m hopeful that in a week or two I’ll be feeling more energetic, and maybe even be down a couple of pounds!
I definitely need to find some energy somewhere, I’m getting going seriously on my English course and work is picking up. I’d even like to add another uni course, but finances are a factor there. Each course is “only” $620 or so, which doesn’t sound bad, but this is a pricey time of year. Bus passes, school registration, signing the older boys up for a couple of afterschool activities…yikes. Well hopefully by October I can add a class!
Well wish me luck in the sugar reduction fun – might be a bumpy weekend!
August 3rd, 2010
It Will Always Be Home
Pack some snacks, packs some drinks, don’t forget the bug spray and sunscreen. Do we have a picnic blanket? Is the truck full of fuel? Okay, I guess we’re ready. Well, except actually getting everyone settled in the truck. And telling the 2yo that NO he may not play with “mommy’s iphone”.
Finally, driving down the highway. At first it’s just an ordinary day…an ordinary drive. It’s not exactly uncommon to have to climb into the vehicle and head out for a few errands, or to go to the park. This time though, we were heading somewhere a little further away. Past the next town and past the first few farmers’ fields. Each kilometer traveled is a little bit of stress sliding off my shoulders. More fields, signs for tiny towns and lakes, and a lonely stand-alone gas station. The turns take me back in time, to the years when I lived in the small town that is my destination. And even more, to the first couple of years after we left, when we went back almost every weekend and I still felt like someday it would be my home again.
I love this drive, I love the space and the trees that line the highway. I love it especially in summer when the sky is blue and the canola fields are bright yellow. We drive and two boys play ipod games, while the little one eventually gives in to naptime dreams. The music blares and we sing along. Even while singing, I feel my creativity start to flow, there is something about all that open space that helps me to think and imagine and wonder. And then we arrive in town, over the bridge, past the golf course and the Co-op. Past the spot that used to be a great park and instead is now a 24 hour IGA.
This town has not been home again since the summer when I turned 13, but it will always be home in my heart. There is no one spot in the town that is of particular importance. I must have lived in 10 or so houses in this town. Admittedly, the little wonderful green and white house that was my grandmother’s holds a special corner of my heart, but even it has long since been taken over by another family. But there, right there, is where I held hands with my first boyfriend. And there is the street I walked down to go to catch the bus to kindergarten. There are new owners and different baked goods, but that is still the bakery where I loved to buy a chocolate chip cookie every chance I could. And that is the park where my little sister kicked out one of my baby teeth on the monkey bars.
Small towns sometimes seem frozen in time. There are changes but they lurk more below the surface, in the kids growing up and having their own families, in the stores that close or change ownership, but Starbucks hasn’t staked out a claim yet and Walmart is an hour’s drive away in the “big city”. If you try to skip school there is still a good chance of your grandma’s friends will see you and report to her.
Sometimes I wish we had stayed in that town that holds my heart. Usually I’m grateful for the fresh start given when we moved to the city for my mom to go to school. What would my life have been if we’d gone back after all? I sure don’t know, but I know that I loved it enough that I often picture retiring there, so I can bowl with the senior’s league and go to morning coffee, just like my grandma still does. And that’s how I know, even if I never go back, it will always be my home.
