Mothers Know Best

I am a mom. I’ve been other things, too, but I can’t really remember them clearly right now. Children have a way of doing that to your memory. Any mother can attest to this. Guiding kids through the pitfalls of life is not just mind boggling, it can be mind scrambling. Raising a family today is like putting out fires on a rollercoaster in the dark. Problems, little and big, come at you so fast, so unexpectedly that it’s all we can do aim and blast the extinguisher before we are thrown off balance by the next curve in the tracks, the next loop d loop of life. And, thank goodness we’re in the dark, too, because, seriously, does any mother want to see what’s up ahead?


Yep, I am a mom. Not a super mom. Not a crappy mom. I’m just an average sort of mom: the kind that tries to sneak wheat germ into her family’s cupcakes, the kind that carries enough germicide in the car to sterilize a small country, the kind that loves her family with every fiber of her being, the kind that prays every night that her children will be blessed with safety and health and that God will help her be a better woman for their sakes. But… I’m also the kind of mom that occasionally forgets to pick up her kid from school on early release days (why, why, WHY, people, can you not let my kid out at the same time every day?), the kind that told her daughter the other day that eight times eight is sixteen (seriously), the kind that inadvertently taught her two year old the word damnit when she stepped on a lego warrior barefoot and the kind who’s kids say ‘mom could you really fix it this time and not just use the hot glue gun again?’ - Like I said, just an average mom.

Not too long ago, after a very full day of terrible twos, dramatic sevens and a husband tied up all night in meetings, I fell into bed makeup on (thank you raw minerals for not plugging my pores on those washless nights), teeth not brushed, in the same yoga pants I’d had on for the last three days (detest yoga, love the pants) and, surprisingly, had what I thought was a slightly deep revelation. Here it is – you ready? Drum roll, please… our homes are miniature versions of the larger socio-economic and political world around us. … Um, yeah, o.k., I didn’t say it was an exciting revelation – and come to think of it, maybe it’s not so deep – but bare with me here. You see, in the microcosm that is my 1000 square foot house, many of the problems and worries which plague our society are acted out on a daily basis (drug use and pornography excluded - unless you count the fact that I can fabricate P.M.S. in order to justify taking Midol pretty much any day of the month and there were those slightly delicious dreams I had after watching “The Proposal” because is that guy kind of hot or what?). In our home we have fights stemming from feelings of anger, jealousy and misinformation, occasionally someone feels taken for granted or ignored, there are naughty acts committed with the hopes of gaining attention or proving a point, there is sneakiness, white lies and not so white lies, rules are established and broken, limits and boundaries are routinely tested and the state of personal finance is always a source of great consideration. And who, I ask you, takes on these problems like a champion cutting horse going after an ornery steer? Me. An average mom.

This random little thought kind of got me philosophizing (well, as much as person who is also simultaneously trying to figure out how to make miniature turkeys out of lunch meat, cheese sticks, pimentos and toothpicks for her kid’s thanksgiving party can philosophize). I mean, really, I don’t know the first thing about politics or international diplomacy. I couldn’t tell our government how to get our finances out of the red or keep our borders safe. I couldn’t win the war on drugs or create new jobs. I really have no background, no sort of education that would allow me to state that my thoughts on the state of our society should be listened to – that they should be taken seriously. And, yet, I can’t help thinking that there are a lot of moms out there, like me, whose skills at negotiating, leadership and budget balancing are refined on a daily basis. And not just refined, but honed like a cold forged ninja sword so that we may thrust and parry with the domestic issues that accost us daily. In fact, I’m positive that there are moms out there who could really offer our nation some sound advice when it comes to addressing the challenges faced by today’s society. I mean, think about it, moms, the nation’s professional domestic army – the leading experts on raising America’s children, might have something important and worthy to say about the process of raising our country. Because, that’s what “we the people” are doing, isn’t it? Taking these United States of America, something that is relatively young, and molding it into something that we hope will make the world a better place – something that will produce, contribute, do something noble and maybe, if we’re lucky, take care of us in our old age.

This is why I have created this blog. I want to hear what other moms have to say. I want to hear their stories whether they be funny, mundane or bittersweet. And, most importantly, I want to hear what they have learned from their experiences as a mother, a homemaker (and often breadwinner, too!) and a wife.

Let me give you an example. You don’t have to agree with it. Call it my own little domestic pearl of wisdom:

About the time my first daughter turned five and a half, I gave birth to our second child. Prior to this moment, no one could have convinced me that my kindergartener was not a toddler – a wee babe being forced to do things like attend all day school; something which she was obviously entirely too young and helpless to do. Up until the day before my water broke I was still helping her put on her clothes, washing her face with a warm cloth after meals, and helping her brush her teeth with (I’m embarrassed to say it) toddler toothpaste. She was little more than an infant in my eyes, in need of my constant supervision and assistance. I did not expect her to be independent, nor did I ever encourage her to be so.

And then a tremendous moment of personal epiphany came to me like a shaft of ethereal sunlight breaking through the dark clouds of denial on the day that I first handed my daughter the seven pound bundle of baby blankets that was her new little sister: she was no longer a baby herself – and she hadn’t been for quite some time. When I saw the two of them standing there together, the contrast between newborn helplessness and 45 pounds of solid kid was too obvious to be denied. It’s humiliating to admit this – but I guess I just wanted to hold onto that “baby-ness”, that need (real or imagined) that another little human being has for its mother.

Well, needless to say, a lot changed the day we brought our youngest home. No longer did I have the time, energy or patience to help my eldest with everything. At first, I felt incredibly guilty for asking her to do things for herself. But, honestly, with nighttime feedings and, well, daytime feedings- dawn and dusk feedings, let’s just say I got over it pretty quickly.

But, here’s the crazy part – even though I worried that my kid would have a hard time taking care of herself, she didn’t. In fact, she did a great job (even better than me, in some cases). It gave her such a sense of accomplishment to make her own bed and pick out her own school clothes. And her bedroom might not have looked as tidy as I would have made it, and maybe she wasn’t wearing a matching outfit to school – but it didn’t matter… She did it! She got so excited by her ability to take matters into her own hands (and by the fact that I had confidence in her to do so), that pretty soon she was helping with even larger tasks. She’d change the baby’s diaper, set the dinner table and pick up the living room – all without being asked.

So, here’s my “pearl” for society:

Parents, teachers, religious leaders, employers and our U.S. government hold those you guide to a higher standard. Do not enable because it is easier, because it meets your own needs. But, instead expect more from the people in your charge. Believe that they are capable of achieving great things so that they may be inspired to do so.

It is my hope that mothers and grandmothers across our nation will contribute to this blog; that they will add their own little “pearl” to this project. Please e-mail me an anecdote and at the end write your own advice for society. Please also include your first name and the number of children you have. If enough stories are accumulated, I would like to see if this material is publishable. So, just know that by sharing your story here, with luck, someday you may see it in print!

Thank you moms for all you do!

-Rachel, mother of 2
pearlsofdomesticwisdom@yahoo.com