Mothers Guilt

Young mothers wear me out trying too hard.  I'm just exhausted watching them as they strive to reach some goal of perfection in motherhood.  They are busy making cake-pops, photo cards, hand-made decorations, and perfectly presented children.  They are scouring the shelves in the grocery for the latest dates on the canned goods, the freshest dairy products, and just laid eggs.  They are searching for the best performing brand of diapers, the most brain stimulating toys,  and clothes that are environmentally friendly.  They seem compelled by some massive competition to prove they are the best mothers by their compulsive selectivity on any item. 

It's a long way from the way we were raised and we all managed to survive.  In fact our generation even managed to produce some intelligent, articulate, productive people.  And, boy, were we ever raised by parents who thought of child-rearing differently!

Yes, most of our mothers stayed at home (I was one of the few kids I knew raised by a two parents who both worked).  It wasn't necessarily by choice, women weren't given the opportunities for jobs, education and equal pay.  On the other hand, we didn't have as many "things" as our kids do. 

Our mothers also had a different attitude about mothering, too.  I don't think my mother ever worried about the date on a milk jug--if it smelled bad and tasted awful, you used it in cornbread not kids.  They never worried if the food had the right antioxidants for our little bodies, they just worried that there would be plenty on the table.  We weren't asked what we wanted either, you just ate whatever was in front of you.  My sister did manage to get away with being a picky eater, but it just meant that if we had peas she had none.  No one fixed special for her. 

We wore lovingly hand-made clothes, not because it was politically correct but because it was cheap.  Often they were crafted from garments handed down from older siblings or recut from adult clothing.  We had beautiful, natural Christmas decorations because we could go out and collect pine, cedar, holly, pine cones, and other evergreens from yards and fields at no cost.  (One of my fondest Christmas memories is shooting mistletoe out of trees). 

Our parents worried a lot more about our manners than the brand of our clothes. 

They didn't worry about spending quality time with us.  They worked hard, often long hours, and often the only time I would spend with my dad was to snuggle up before bedtime when he would read the funnies to me.  They never planned days when we could do nothing but play together.  Instead they planned ways that we could be with them while they did other chores--we chatted while pulling weeds, shared stories while folding laundry, learned to cook while helping in the kitchen.  They weren't chores--they were our quality time. 

I think the biggest difference that hits me is that for so many young parents their children are running their world.  They worry incessantly about whether their children are receiving the right stimulus,  seeing the right friends, participating in the correct activities,, eating the best foods, playing with the best toys, wearing the best diapers, attending the best pre-school, Their whole world is focused on their children.  If they aren't doing for or with their children they feel guilty. 

My worry is that in the effort to be the "perfect" parents they are forgetting something that our parents knew well.  First they were a couple, then they were parents.  Our parents never let us forget that we weren't the authors of the world....they were.  My dad got the best piece of chicken, my mom picked the tv programs.  Kids weren't given first choice or decision.  It was that way in everything.  Their word was law.  We might grumble but rarely did we rebel. 

I might have felt mistreated, but I never felt unloved. 

You see, our parents knew an important fact.   Love isn't shown by things or even specific actions...it just is.  And there never was a child or person, when surrounded by love, that didn't know it.