The Yardstick of Motherhood

[marydell]

I'm thinking today about the way we measure ourselves as mothers.  I suppose we all have a set of mothers in our heads--the ideal one we think we should be;  the bad one we strive not to be and maybe fear being.  Maybe we were raised by a version of one of those archetypes, and are measuring ourselves against our memories and hopes.  If we adopted our children, we may be measuring ourselves against the sorrow that brought our children to us--trying to be a good enough mother to make up for the child's loss of his first mother, and her loss of him.  If our children are disabled, troubled, medically fragile, that's another measurement: can I mother away pain, illness, limitations? Can I make up for all the hurts of the world?  Even those of us with supposedly-uncomplicated little ones, and supposedly-simple family relationships, have a thousand ways to fail to measure up.  Breasts that don't make enough milk, minds that create anxiety instead of bliss, kids who will only eat bananas and crackers, kids who just don't feel like sleeping or doing their homework.  Moms who stay at home with their kids are expected to raise their own food in the back yard and knit their own diaper covers and read edifying literature during naptime; moms who do office work are expected to be there for every school event and doctor's visit, and make a home-cooked meal every night.

The way I keep my sanity in the face of the Yardstick of Motherhood is to sometimes whimsically measure myself against a totally different ideal--the Yardstick of Old-Fashioned TV Fatherhood.  Unlike real fatherhood, Old-Fashioned TV Fatherhood seems to involve not much more than showing up for dinner, talking to the kids about their minor problems with their paper route or half-hearted bullies, and then having my spouse tell me how great and wise I am.  On the weekends, there is ball playing and lawn mowing, generally resulting in shenanigans.  The Yardstick of Old-Fashioned TV Fatherhood is awesome!  It's particularly well-aligned with my cooking skills, which are Mike-Brady like. I recommend this to every mother who ever feels bad about herself as a parent--just say, "would TV Pa Ingalls be able to do what I'm doing right now?" and unless your mothering style is all about splitting wood, you know that you measure up just fine, because that dude never did a goddamn thing, really, except talk pretty.

Or, better yet, put the yardstick away for a while.  Because you measure up just fine, dear Mothers.

Happy Mothers Day.


[edited to clarify which Pa Ingalls I'm impugning]

Comments

[rikibeth.livejournal.com]

Well, I was thinking recently about how I'd like to actually HAVE the skill of casting bullets, because I'm making these vampire-hunter kits, and...

At least Pa Ingalls did his share of keeping his family fed (although natural disasters and his misjudgement of government regulations made this harder than it might otherwise have been). He made some sketchy choices as a provider, but he was a hell of a lot better than, say, Bronson Alcott! Bronson Alcott is my standard for pretty-talking, WORTHLESS father.

[sabotabby]

This post is awesome.

[marydell.livejournal.com]

The Pa Ingalls of the books did stuff like building a house out of sod...but the Pa Ingalls of the TV show mostly drove a cart in circles all day and then dispensed some wisdom when he got home. I want his job.

Is Bronson Alcott the model for Pa March? Because in the movies, anyway, Pa March comes home from the war*, sits his ass in a chair, and never does a thing for the rest of the movie, except maybe standing around during a wedding and a funeral. I don't know what he's like in the book because I've never been able to get past "It won't seem like Christmas without presents!"

*having been in the war, he's entitled to sit on his ass, I think, but since the war stuff was offscreen it leaves him making very little impression, dad-wise.

[kate_nepveu]

Heh. I like it.

[browngirl.livejournal.com]

Heh, well said. And Happy Mother's Day!

[rikibeth.livejournal.com]

Bronson Alcott is indeed Pa March except WORSE, because he was moving them to a commune in Concord full of Transcendentalist ideas and NO FOOD and not bringing in any money BEFORE he ever went off to be a Civil War chaplain. Note, chaplain, not combatant.

[unhappytriad.livejournal.com]

Brilliant!

[icecreamempress.livejournal.com]

Bronson Alcott made his daughters pull the ploughs because he didn't want to be cruel to the oxen. Trufax.

[icecreamempress.livejournal.com]

Are you familiar with Winnicott's theory of the "good enough mother" (whom, he contends, actually helps to foster stronger personalities than the "perfect mother")? I find that helps me, even though I am not a mother.

As a non-mother, I thank you for helping a clearly amazing person grow; I know my world is enriched by having Charlie in it, even though he and I have never met. Happy (belated) Mother's Day!

[marydell.livejournal.com]

Thanks! We are constantly amazed to be the parents of such a delightful and interesting little guy.

I hadn't heard of Winnicott's theory but now that I've read a bit about it, it seems prescriptive...that there's a specific set of behaviors required in order to be a "good-enough mother" as he defines it, and failure to do those things results in damage to the child. So on first glance, anyway, it seems to be the opposite of what its name implies.