Mine, Mine, Mine!

A friend urged me to join the weekly photo challenge. It was a simple fun way to get myself “out there” more. At first I felt out of my depth. After my first thoughtful entry, I was proud of myself. That is, until I saw the other entries. It was like my vinegar and baking soda volcano was displayed among high-energy particle accelerators and organic computers. A funny thing seems to be happening for me though. Something unrelated to photography, although I think my subsequent posts hold their own nicely. The challenge themes (or other entries) stir me to write more interesting posts. Yes, I hear you screaming, “Well! Where are these more interesting posts?!?” Until typing this ditty they were nothing more than a “brainstorming list” collecting whatever the digital version of dust is. So here goes…

The theme of the photographs this week is “Mine”. Here’s Post A Day’s description: Is there a place, object, or view that’s entirely yours, or you’re a bit selfish or possessive about? Is it a feeling you feel when you look at the photo, or perhaps an unwillingness to share? I get rather possessive about that first cup of coffee in the morning. It’s definitely mine and I want it all to myself.

Simple enough? Maybe. My first impulse was a picture of the kids. Then, as I decided this required further reflection, and clicked through other submissions that seemed wrong;-well not wrong- just not quite it. Of course an overwhelming number of mommy bloggers posted pictures of their kids. It’s still amazing to me that I made another person. I’m very proud of that. I think that’s what those other ladies are hitting on, the pride aspect. Because here’s my thing the kids aren’t “MINE” in the possessive way. My secret Oreos are mine in that possessive way. My beloved wedding ring is. I may have had a hand in creating them, but the children belong to themselves (God, or nature, or the universe ultimately).

I fear I’ll stray so let me come right to the point (a bit late). I find it disturbing, that in general when anyone asks a woman to declare her selfishness in any way even briefly and harmlessly, she feels the need to stand up and shout her selflessness from the mountain top. Sigh. I do it too. What are we afraid of? You can love others immensely and still want things. It’s ideal to be fulfilled in your family life and with yourself, isn’t it? I wonder why there’s a sense of shame in saying we selfishly covet something. I don’t see men acting this way, as often.

I love my kids, but I did not stop being a woman at the onset of motherhood. I still like Pumpkin Lattes, OPI nail polish, movies, not sharing my desert and time alone. None of those things make me love the buggers any less. I read a friend’s status the other day which said something along the lines of “taking care of a sick kid all day, and then going out tonight. (don’t judge [legitimate reason not to reschedule])” It made me angry. How could anyone who has ever spent 8hrs with a sick child blame someone for wanting a break? If you have the energy at the end of a day of giving your whole self to your kids, and a chance to escape, go. The kind of mother, who deserves judgment for her wildly out of whack priorities, would never worry about what others think. Besides, why should my friend feel the need to explain herself? Anyone who knows her knows she’s a good mom and what do strangers matter?

I do it too. Sneak away, buy something for myself or have a moment when I just don’t like my kids and feel the need to publically state how devoted a parent I am or some such thing. Life was simpler before the oversharing, fostered by an ever present social media, invaded daily life. It’s hard to measure up against, quite literally, every other mother in the world. It’s a tool that can be used for good or evil. After all there’s a lot to be said for the far reaching support networks, vast amounts of information (albeit unreliable and flawed), and creative outlets. There are ups and downs to all of it, but this is another tangent. I wish upon a star for women, on the whole, to chill out, myself included. Who cares if some other mom breastfed until college? Or some other toddler can recite the alphabet in 3 languages? The fact that we’re worried about it means we’re probably doing the best we can. Every human has strengths and weaknesses. Not all moms are created equally good at making meals from scratch, sewing Halloween costumes or sock drawer organization. It’s ok to be an individual who is raising a tiny human who, you guessed it, is another individual. They are a brand new individual who has (for better or worse) thoughts, feelings, and plans of their own.

So, the next time you can’t stand your kid, don’t wallow in guilt or post a sonnet about their birth on social media- just laugh because it only means you’re both human. If someone asks, “What’s your selfish pleasure?” tell them about the cookies you baked and ate, without sharing, during nap time- with a smile. To enjoy motherhood completely, I think you really have to retain a sense of self. Your kids (and spouse) will thank you. Love them to the moon and back, just love yourself too and don’t apologize for it.