on being an a**hole

Good morning.

Lusting for two workmen to pass by carrying a sheet of plate glass for me to RUN THROUGH. Or throw my husband through for waking up both kids with a 5:30 AM departure. Or my four-year-old for snorting snot into the back of his throat. Or my 22-month-old for being so damn cute but for requiring me when I’d rather loll.

This morning is brought to you by four bottles of Rescue Remedy and an automatic tennis ball-lobber loaded with Advil.

Seriously. I suck at this.

And with one of my children no longer here, I should be enlightened somehow, grateful, joyful for the extra two hours that a 5:30 AM elbow-to-the-face affords me with my progeny. I should leap out of bed to don my Fun Times With Mrs. Frizzle astronaut-themed apron, and after serving scrambled eggs adorned with cheerio happy faces, I should clap my hands three times and construct a magical rocket booster made of popsicle sticks as organic banana bread rises in the oven.

There are two kinds of UGH inspired by a post like this.

There’s the silent UGH, accompanied by the tsk, tsk, tsk and the solemn head-shake of other mothers. Those poor children. I’m calling her local authorities. She twittered the other day that she has a velcro restraining wall, and velcro coveralls, one pair in size four and one pair in size two, and that sounds almost as painful as lacking a sense of humour.

And there’s the out-loud UGH, accompanied by the grimace of the childfree. My god, parents are miserable. All they ever do is either a) complain; or b) declare themselves some kind of higher lifeform. (looks at watch) Oops. Gotta go. It’s time for my champagne cocktail and swedish massage.

(pauses, rolls eyes) I know, I know. The swedes of childfree folk only give rubdowns on Tuesdays.

(sighs) I know, I know. A large percentage of you just sucked air in through your teeth.

The lovely No Pasa Nada wrote the other day, most fairly, of her contempt for our contempt—that is, of women who deem themselves women (as opposed to girls) thanks to the transformative effect of childbirth and/or parenting. Now, I never said that. But I did rant akin to that, didn't I?

Yeah. I did. And then again.

A very few people called me on it—not many, because I suspect at the time I was buffered from the red scorn by the barrier cream of, you know, death. And now it’s cropped up again and I’m compelled to explain, not coincidentally on this particular morning.

Here's how it looks from here. The ass of the non-mother is pristine-like-gymnast. Hundred-dollar bills get stuck to it no matter where she sits, and she does so whenever she wants. It’s the only one she needs to wipe. You are not a Real Woman until you require a perineal sitz bath, we sniff. Only then can the mysteries of the universe be revealed.

(riches come in oil, gold bricks and ass autonomy.)

We love our kids, but we don’t always like them. We love motherhood but at 5:30 AM—stray bolts of lightning be damned—we might wish it away, or at least wish it to pause. We condescend because we feel trapped and we loathe ourselves for it, because hey, kids are cute and mothers are supposed to be selfless.

And so we say stupid stuff when drenched in projectile vomit. Stuff like you have it easy and you don’t know love and you don’t know sacrifice and you’re not a girl, not yet a woman, all of which makes you want to rustle up some projectile vomit to aim in our direction.

Rightly so.

We say these repellant things, these thoughtless quips, not because we think we're better but because we think we suck. Because when we fail, we fail not just ourselves but our children. We make them feel small, put snowsuits on backwards, throw sippies at them filled with milk gone to unintentional yogurt.

My children, you see, are likely to remember me as a battleaxe. A snapping, snarling she-dog. I’m not joking. It breaks my fucking heart, but I can’t stop it, not even after one of my kids died and I should know better.

Motherhood comes with an extraordinary pressure and limitless examples of how it should be, how it could be. And so we lash out. Some insist that it forms us into something bigger than you, something more seasoned. And because we’re up to our necks in it—the guilt, the self-loathing, the doubt—some of us say this out loud.

Sorry about that.

: : :

Heather is right. We can be condescending and shrill and insufferable. We might puff ourselves up with supposed seasoning without considering the ache of those who want children and wait in limbo—either for cooperative uterii or cooperative seed-sowers. With this self-congratulatory tone we diminish women who choose differently, or who simply aren’t there yet.

But it’s unlikely to stop.

We’re unlikely to ever be confident in what we’ve done and in how we do it. We’re never going to think we’re good enough mothers. And so we gaze romantically, longingly, at what we perceive as your blank slate, your fresh start, your autonomy.

(Overinflated claims of maturity and fulfillment via motherhood does not imply your own immaturity and emptiness. It just means we think we suck in ways more profound than we’ve ever sucked before.)

Please accept this peace offering: this here handful of linty cheerios. And know that you, if you ever choose to become a mother, are likely to become an irrational asshole by hormonal default, if only on three hours of sleep. Please call us when you do, or hey, anytime. We’ll do fishsticks.

Comments

[Hannah]

This, my god, you can write this well while sick? All I've managed to do in the past few days is made random comments on people's Facebook albums.

I feel like a motherfailure this week. I have some kind of debilitating flu that makes me unable to even stand up for more than five minutes at a stretch. I have no energy for play - I can barely summon up the intestinal fortitude to make sure I'm wiping one end and feeding the other. Yesterday Isaac burst into tears and wailed "I'm running away forever mommy! I hate you! I'm going to live with Nanny!" because I've said "no, I can't play with you, go play, don't you understand I'm SICK" for three days now.

It is hard to hear childless anyone - men or women - complaining about being tired or sick or stressed out, because my immediate reaction is "yeah, but at least you only need to look after yourself". Which is selfish, unfair, and in lots of cases probably untrue. It doesn't stop me thinking it, though. And then the guilt.

*sigh*

I think all we can do is give ourselves permission to suck at it sometimes. And hey, my mother was screaming banshee a lot of the time, but she's my best friend now. So your kids will forgive you as long as you love them hard when you can.

[evangeline]

Damn lady, you write good. :)

I did this, just yesterday, this sanctimonious "I have kids, therefore I am" thing, without even thinking. And then I felt shitty.

"We say these repellent things, these thoughtless quips, not because we think we're better but because we think we suck. Because when we fail, we fail not just ourselves but our children."

Yup, exactly. I think I have a couple of handfuls of linty cheerios to offer in my own life too, thanks for making me think about it.

[Gillian]

This debate has always annoyed the crap out of me. Feeling frank and cranky myself this fine morning, after a newborn-style night with my 10 month old (meaning, 11pm, 1am, 3am, 5am, 6am wakeups, and I have to roll out of bed at 6:30 and get dressed and go to effing work despite the sleeplessness. Damn one year molars.)

Look. Living in Australia for a year when I was 21 changed me absolutely. Living in England for a year when I was 23 changed me. Going to college far from my parents changed me. Giving birth and becoming a mom changed me. I can put myself in the moms vs non-moms category, and say you don't understand. I can put myself in the foreign-traveled vs. non-foreign-traveled, and say you don't understand. College educated vs. non-college educated. Whatever.

And you DON'T. Just like I don't understand what it's like to be a person who speaks French fluently. I don't understand what it's like to lose a baby, or a parent, or a sibling. I don't understand cancer, not intimately. I don't understand a lot.

So you child free non foreign traveled cancer survivors can teach me something. You mothers of lost babies can teach me something. You French speakers. Teach me something, and I'll teach you something, and all of us stop declaring that because we made different choices from each other, we are automatically invalidating our non-peers. Despite our declarations to the contrary, it seems we are all so desperate to find people the same as us.

As far as Heather's post - I felt her anger, and I appreciate it. I think the momversation mom was using careless word choice, and perhaps careless thinking, and perhaps it was right for the childless to circle the wagons and defend their maturity, and remind us all to be civil. I was mature before I had a kid, but I am more seasoned now for sure. The same can be said for my travels and my education and all of it. It's all a big soup of maturity-making experiences, and I wouldn't trade any of them. And in my mind, my life doesn't invalidate any of you or your readers' choices, just because you didn't follow the same trajectory.

Civility, even after sleepless nights, is the best we can hope for.

[Gillian]

And hey re-reading that comment, it was cranky, but the crank is directed at the world in general and not you or your readers or Heather or her readers or the momversation mom whose name I have already lost, obviously. The message is true, but the delivery would have been much less crank-alicious if I'd had, like, three seconds of continuous sleep last night or the three nights prior.

[sweetsalty kate]

Wow, Gillian. Well put. You're sharp with or without the molaring.

[conversemomma]

Motherhood did not make me a women. That is preposterous. I had a vagina long before I popped a kid out of it. But, motherhood did give me the confidence to write it down. I envy women who could give and do because they know THEY deserved it. I needed twp kids full of snot and clinging to my legs, me looking down at them with love, before I knew I had to get off my maternity ass and go after my own dream.

[Bon]

see i actually got a full six hours of sleep last night and still everything i was going to say was covered more articulately by Gillian...damn. or rather, damn! and ditto! i guess dividing us into those who sleep and those who don't is moot too, huh?

it ebbs and flows , how we experience the constant demands of parenthood and the grace we have available for it at a given time. i remember a post i wrote a good year or more ago whining that Oscar kept waking up at 5:30 am but instead of coming in to nurse and snuggle, which had made 5:30 am tolerable-ish, weaning meant that he just came in and sat on my head and your comment was along the lines of "diaper bum in face...yummm!" in a truly embracing way and i thought, shit, man, she's like a saint of mom-hood and here i am - with equally dead baby - complaining about the one i do have because i'm a lazy-ass sleepyhead. so...uh...thank you. on both counts. for reminding me in spite of it all that they're delicious, and now for letting me in on the fact that you are not a morning-bot. :)

also, i had missed Heather's post so thanks for directing me to it...need to get out from under my rock. and i'd like to take you up on those fishsticks soon. :)

[mamie]

i watched that momversation yesterday and saw a few comments around the the whole girl/woman thing. i wonder if i am still in the girl category because the csection afforded me a reprieve from the whole vagina topography change thing. hmmmm...

kidding aside, i like when i read other mamas saying that they sometimes chafe at this whole mama thing, that they yell when they should whisper and have velcro walls (oh my god, brilliant idea, must get on this as next craft project). yes, i have healthy kids, they are relatively happy and i usually like them. does not mean i always like this. oddly, i just wrote a post about my mild allergic reaction to mothering last week. it was no where near as eloquent and honest, but it seems i have yet to find that truly honest writing voice of mine

it is not the pre and post body baby thing that gets me. i think the thing that gets me is i walk with the mother part intertwined in all my thoughts, to the gym, thinking about if they are going to wake up and require help and then what if they are awake when i get home and what if when i go to work for a few hours someone else gets to do that fun thing and what if...on and on and on. and then when with them, i think about a break. the only time in the last 2 years i have truly been 'child free' in thought was when i was snowboarding for the first time in three years, that was mainly due to powder and self preservation.

oops, seems i am leaving a novel here. i want to go read the post by heather, sounds juicy. thanks for the stimulation this morning. i always love reading here. and harping screamishness be damned, you still look like a good mama to me.

[Kelsey]

This has me in tears this morning... my kids have been sick and difficult lately, and I've been sick, and all I want is a week to sleep and have no responsibilities. The gratefulness I'm supposed to feel laughs at me as I'm wiping a nose or finding a lovely at 2 a.m., having to really restrain myself from hissing at the baby that I just want him to go back to sleep already.

[cjh]

I'm in the childless camp right now because it just hasn't come around yet. I'm trying to be old-fashioned and plan a wedding first. I never take offense at what you write. But I must say, the thing that struck me the most with all this? That you have a 22-month-old. How time flies...

[Heather B.]

Saying that I clung to every single word of this post is so trite and simple. Especially when what I really want to say is much bigger than a few words posted as a comment. What I will say is that it sucks that women cannot always count on other women to respect us for our individual choices and lots in life. I feel like women should support each other and it's something that I've strived for for years. And it makes me feel icky when I hear barbs thrown at each other - even unintentionally - especially when it's whether or not someone is actually a woman based on the number of children they have birthed. I said it in my comments but I think I was particularly sensitive at this time because my aunt recently died of breast cancer. She was 42. Never married and never had children. So upon hearing "your body before mad you a girl but your body now makes you a woman" (I'm paraphrasing here) totally rocked me to my core. I think that someone who has a mastectomy is a fucking woman.

Anyway I'm just blathering now but what I want to say is that a) I appreciate this more than you know b) no need to apologize and you are not an asshole but I do like me some cheerios and c) why can't women just support other women no matter their circumstance?

[Mad]

Your commenters = wise. Your writing = sublime. Me = sick, inarticulate and desperately lacking the broader context. I'll just shut up now and dream of ass autonomy.

[jdg]

so much angst over a poorly-thought-out comment by a woman whose claim to fame is being the first google hit for the search "mommy blog."

I doubt anyone has ever been hurt by anything you've ever written, unless you count pangs of jealousy.

[Heather B.]

I'd like to give Jim a high-five right now or a terrorist fist bump. Whichever he prefers.

I repeat: Kate, you are NOT an asshole.

[sweetney]

I love you.

I think this has just inspired a post in me. xo

[lacey]

exaclty how I am feeling this morning! I was thinking a good portion of these things as I was driving down the road after I had a humiliating experience at Target with my 2 yr old. I shot a text to my husband saying "being a mom is hard sometimes" , so thanks for the perfect words to a crazy morning!

[Andria and Co.]

Oh God. Do I know what you mean. I long for days of not having to do it all. And what's up with husbands "babysitting" our children? It ticks me off- I don't babysit all day long. I feel like men get an hour here and there, and feel like they have done their part indefinitely. Sorry. Post hijack there- just feel like man-bashing this morning.

[jen]

Not to be a drama queen but I am sitting here reading your post to distract me from having to call my friend who just found out the child she has carried for 16 weeks has a fatal deformity... gee, should they deliver now or wait it out and deliver the baby in 4 more months... or what about my friend who all she ever wanted in life was motherhood, had an anueryism and can't, just can't have a baby. My point you ask? Yeah I'm wondering too...

It's this. My grandma once, when she was feeling lousy and sorry for herself said very bitterly, "Well, you're still young and you don't have to be old" and I said, "Don't worry Katie, God willing I will get to be old and die too!" and then I laughed because I don't care who you are, where you are or what you have birthed, you are living out this crap shoot the best you can. I am sorry but you will be sad and happy and die. In what order, for how long and at what point is a mix of fate and choice and what seasonings you use.

I for one found my baby teething on the soothing coolness of porcelain yesterday, yep, the toilet (a whole new meaning to potty mouth), and at that moment I thought, yep, this is why the carefree and childless cringe and for their information when he smiled at me and tried to kiss me moments later so did I!

I did not include that incident in the 10 year bio I offered my college roommate I just reconnected with, she being thin and well traveled and newly engaged. My only contempt or insecurity or judgement lie in the thought, of what she would think, if she had seen that toilet thing...

yes, I suck too Kate :) but I wouldn't trade it, I just request the right to think I suck at sucking and such... and just between me and you I AM a much "bigger" person after being a mom, by 20 pounds at least! Feel better soon!

[Elizabeth]

i'm always curious and then bored by those who would waste time criticizing others' experience -- isn't there always a nugget of truth, of something to learn in everyone's writing and ranting? Surely we don't need to relate entirely to the novelist who grew up in the Sudan, the woman veiled in a middle eastern country, the man suffering in Vietnam. Those of us who write, write to live and those of us who read, read to live. I love your writing and your unique take on your life -- when I read it, I dance with another person, someone whom I might not know. Thank you...

[Muddy]

Ooh, I was one of those who called you on it despite the barrier cream (NICE phraseology, incidentally) , so I suppose I should jump in now to say...asshole?

Nah. I'm gonna reiterate my last comment and say we, as human creatures, default to feeling isolated. And it's such a shame, because we all have such unique experiences but such an incredible capacity for empathy.

Gillian's comment was brilliant, also. Here, here.

I've ranted about the being-a-mom-makes-you-magic topic a few times, and I'm kinda intrigued to see if my position changes in 3 months when I have my first child.

From here, though? I think I'd like to cut you a break and mail it to you. You're doing a great job, the best you can possibly do. And that's all anyone can ask.

[Cat]

Amen!

[abdpbt]

Yeah, I feel very mixed on this topic. It is kind of like when I was younger and people would say, "you feel that way because you're young," as if your viewpoint when you are older is somehow more valid.

Which, no. It's just different. Irrevocably so. I doubt being a parent has made me a better person. It has made me so much less free, though, and so when I see comments of the childless, I think, "They can do/say/think that because they are free," which I dunno, maybe it's condescending. Maybe they're young and not parents, though. LOL

[Jo]

Oh thank God someone else out there is feeling as I do, particularly today. I have been that she-dog for two days, so much so that my sense of humor was flushed down the toilet with my precious IPhone on Monday afternoon. Right now, I feel all sucked up. My poor kids. I heard they are resilient, however it sucks - as you suggest - to know that these mama-ruts are constant, cyclical, and whatever else.

[Miss Ash]

*smiles*

[I am a Dad, but not always...]

Caution, I am going to say it, I hate being a "parent"... I like being a Dad. Dad is the one who laughs and plays with the kids, and stands in the doorway admiring them while they are sleeping. The parenting part sucks. When I get home from work, I usually last one hour and then I find myself thinking that this sucks. STOP, DON'T, BE NICE, DO THIS, DO THAT... then the morning comes and I get to go to work.... thank god! I have only respect for my wife on her "down days", I don't blame her, I don't look down at her, I empathize. It is helpful and comforting to see that Kate has put into words, how we feel.

[janet]

I used to always feel like an immature, incapable kid in my early-to-mid twenties. Then I had kids and it changed me, to be sure. I had to step up and make decisions and do stuff I never, ever imagined would be required of me. But I also cranked and groused and, yes, sometimes raged. And I was just thinking yesterday, "What will these children remember of me? That I danced to Gwen Stefani in the living room? That I liked sweet pickles with my grilled cheese? Or that I yelled over stupid things?" It is yet to be determined.

Here's what I do know: I am almost 40 and, ta da! I still feel like an immature, incapable kid a lot of the time. Motherhood didn't change that. Go figure.

[Jennboree]

Isn't all about "you don't know unless you've been there"? For those with kids, those who never want to have them, those who long for them, those who've lost them.

It is easy for women to be and to feel pigeon-holed. And it is more often than not because of other women.

Men think we are crazy. I think maybe they are right.

Damnit.

[krista]

thank you. you completely amaze me.

i have no children, but i can honestly say that reading your blog has made me more ready for "real" motherhood than the endless weeks of 12 hour days of nannying ever could have. because you say the shit no one will say. you think and yell and dream out loud. you seem to be able to articulate the little feelings that other people let pass, push away, are too "polite" to admit to. politeness be damned.

thank god for the fucking internet. (and you, specifically, kate)

[EJ]

But they will grow up and you'll miss them terribly.
My son is now grow and I would love to spend a day or a week with his 2 or 4 or 8 year old self. Where did those people go? The kid that he was, the young mom I was. Not always nice, cute and loving either. But still good.

[Woman in a Window]

You wind arguement with some very precise and careful logic, oh and the cheerios and fishsticks, which are ever present in this thing called motherhood.

I think too, sometimes we're just so overwhelmed we can't see the toes on our shoes and forget to look any further.

[sweetsalty kate]

Such thoughtful comments, as always… posting is always some kind of detoxifying thing, but to get wisdom like this back never fails to shock and make me feel sane all at once.

Heather, your post clung to me. That this would shake you in the way it did, given the life and loss of your aunt (so sorry).. of course it would. Thanks also for insisting the asshole label be removed, but I’m okay with it. Sometimes. Mostly. It’s important to know when it’s at least somewhat earned. Makes us human.

Also, EJ... point taken. So true.

Thanks all.
xo

[Jennifer Harvey]

All of this...exactly how it is. Thank you for saying it.

[Julia]

You know, just goes to show how different we all are. Because I am confident in what I do and how I do it as a mother. But I think it might come from being constantly challenged and judged on my parenting. MIL, yes, a lovely creature. Or maybe it's just my nature. But I can always tell you why I am doing something, or why I want to do something this particular way. I think it's the MIL, though. And in that sense, I can't possibly recommend the regimen.

And also? I do very poorly on little sleep. Very poorly. Like now. Sigh.

[thordora]

Why is it so bad that we might have some differences between us, those with kids, and those without? Why is it so bad to admit that there is a difference before and after, that the us before kids is infintely different, and that there really isn't a way to explain it, not totally, to those who experience it?

I really don't get it. Having children, however you are given them, changes you, inherently. WHy can't we admit that? Why does being a woman mean that every single experience must be inclusive and the same? Why can't it be true that becoming a mother might alter you experience, your life, your maturity, any number of things? Why be crucified for stating that fact?

Tiresome. So very tiresome. It's almost like you're not allowed to consider motherhood, or parenting, any different from the life you led prior too. Seems to me that this just allows us to consider mothering as a creature so much less than it is.

[Gal]

I'm learning that I can be a "good enough mother". I had one of those, and I turned out pretty good. Because of or in spite of her, who knows... At least I learned independence and self-love.

[Mindy]

I posted a huge apology on my site - you are totally right and I was wrong, and a complete jackass for not editing my stuff before turning it in.

http://themommyblog.net/blog/comments/mea-culpa-mea-culpa-mea-culpa/

[Thumbelina]

I remember my mum as a 'battleaxe' in my early years...and then I grew up and heard her side of my childhood - for example, my apparent throwing of massive tantrums when I wasn't allowed ice cream...for breakfast. (blushes)
And I got older and wiser and realised how tired and stressed she was, and how difficult we could be. I guess my point is your kids will know many you's, and understand and love them all.

[Marin]

I'm going to write a song that includes the words "Kate is a rockstar" repeated ad nauseum. I agree with Jim...I've never been hurt by anything you've written about being a mother even though hey, I'm not one.

I doubt your children will remember you as a battleaxe. The moments that matter are not the ones where Mom is frazzled and pissy. I don't remember those moments with my mother, except one, and that's once in decades.

[sweetsalty kate]

Marin, if you write a song like that, I will walk around with headphones on and listen to it on continuous repeat. And I will pay you a million gabillion kajillion dollars.

[Allison]

I don't feel so alone when I read an entry like yours. There are days when all I do is snap, yell, bark, and act no better than my 3 year old. I am so afraid that she'll have bad memories of me and it breaks my heart too. Every day I wake up and say I have a chance to do it over again but usually at around 10a.m. it goes terribly wrong.

We chose this path...didn't we? Sometimes I'm not sure if I chose them or they chose me. All I know is that there are days when I hear a little voice say "mommy" and I'm sure that she's got me confused with someone else because how can I possibly be a mother???

I think I need to go find my varga girl...she's hiding somewhere behind my summer sandals...I better go dig her up before she suffocates.

[JoC]

I think your first comment said most of what I was thinking on the mom / non-mom better than I could possibly articulate it. I just want to add the same gist to te working outside the home vs not. Currently being home on maternity leave, I have pangs of jealousy for the person currently doing my job eventhough much of the time I didnt want to be at work.

Gotta velcro suit in sizes 3years and 3mos(actuallywearing 6mos size)?

[mammymoo]

fantastic - sums up all the contradiction, much like 'buddhism for mothers' by sarah napthali.

love your writing, hope you feel better soon.

[Alison]

Thordora-
as far as I'm concerned moms can totally say that motherhood makes them different from childless ladies like me, or different from the people they were pre-kids. I can absolutely believe it and I admire anyone who takes that plunge. Just don't ever try and claim that it makes you BETTER/more womanly than me. I think that's what bloggers like Heather were getting at.
Kate- great (and very funny) post.

[Ashley]

I am always amazed, impressed, and generally inspired but what you write...even in its most brutally honest form. One of my favorite quotes is by Graham Greene - “Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those, who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic fear, which is inherent in a human condition”

It's inevitable that in the process of trying to connect, we will unintentionally offend or injure someone else. As someone who is childfree but only due to age and circumstance and hopes one day to be a mama, I am ok with not fully understanding your experience. Or any parent's for that matter. I read Heather's post with complete understanding, because it does hurt sometimes, the judgement. But.

I'm ok with not understanding. You are you and I am me and I come here because I simply enjoy being here. Listening, connecting. In whatever capacity I can.

[thordora]

Allison, I guess I always get the distinct impression that my stating my opinion on the matter is construed as being superior, and it drives me batty, especially since I detest kids in the first place. :P You likely have the same reaction to this stuff that I do to the small vocal childfree chorus of "it's your own damn fault, watch me eat pie!" :)

Each side has something the other doesn't-doesn't need to be a contest to admit that.

[Lani]

i'm in that struggle right now b/w being a mom because i gave birth (and naturally i might add) but yet don't seem to have the baby around to keep me up til all hours or wake me up at the crack of dawn. that part kills me. i did the work, i pee when i jump, my belly jiggles unnaturally but it all stops there.

where does that leave us? the mommies who have no baby?

as always kate, your words are incredible.
(and btw, thanks for your comment on my comment on gitw last week - i was never a "writer" but, now that i'm writing so much, i'm finding things coming out that I have no clue where they come from, its been kinda cool)

[nutty mummy]

OH KATE!! You write this so well - I swear you could have written this for me (but so much better)...

I remember practically yawning in my sister's face when she dared to start a sentence with 'you'll understand when you have kids...' I just thought YEAH. WHATEVER.

But then I nearly choked on my own progesterone when I heard myself say that... to not *one* but maybe 50 other people as I strove to be perfect and failed miserably over the last 4 years.

I sucked today because I totally took my ill child to work because I was too busy not to be there... and I said to someone ... well you'll understand when you have kids ... It's so bad of us but you're so right - we do it when we feel like we're doing it wrong - or trying to justify that we think we're doing it right but that THEY think we might be doing it wrong...

waffle waffle

Anyway - GOOD post! :)

[sweetsalty kate]

Thor, I don't know how I missed your comment back there... absolutely. Beautifully put, and Alison's too, and then your response.

Lani, that's a Glow post, isn't it? Existing in this bloggy world and standing on the fringes of (oh god... here it comes...) the 'mommy wars' (URP). How all these debates strike you when you're at the beginning of your mothering/parenting journey, but with an ethereal child.. you and Chris are both such lovely voices. I'm so glad I found you both.

It's been a while since I've posted about parenting explicitly, working through mud, and it just reminds me of how bloody smart and passionate and varied you all are. You're helping me find my feet again. Yes, you. Thanks.

[sweetsalty kate]

Mindy - I did leave a comment on your blog to say that you really don't need to apologize. This post was just meant to say, "We say these things sometimes, even though we're smarter than this. So why do we keep saying it? In describing this transformation of life and body, why is it that we can't capture the intensity without diminishing the choices or circumstances of others?"

That said, I don't think you intended to diminish anyone else. More than reflecting on your initial momversation comment (how motherhood took you from girlhood to womanhood, and pardon the paraphrasing) ... Heather's post made me reflect on my own history of brash statements, regardless of the context.

So don't worry, okay? :)

[tanya]

LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU.

and those two posts where you went on about skinny jeans and fish sticks at 4:30 pm? some of my favorite. they still play in my head because they echo my life.