MamaBlogga

Once upon a time, there was a mystique to working one’s own land. Owning a farm was considered by a large part of society to be the pinnacle of achievement—you’d “arrived” once you obtained acreage. Hard work was a virtue, and an aspiration.

I doubt that I have to tell you that isn’t the mentality today. Most of us have learned to work just enough to get by. Even in motherhood, sometimes it’s easy to let the “okay” (PBS) supplant the “good” (playing with your kids).

There’s no way around it: motherhood—maintaining the home, providing meals, rearing children to become productive adults, sometimes even providing income for the family—is hard work. Even if we do just enough to get by, sometimes the work of motherhood is emotionally and physically exhausting.

So sometimes motherhood gets a bad rap. But you know what? I think we had it right centuries ago—though it’s often not fun or even interesting, hard work is good for us. It makes us grow and makes us stronger.

And, honestly, I have to hope that anything that requires this much effort can only be worth every ounce of myself that I put into it.

What do you think? What have you learned from the hard work of motherhood? How have you grown as a mother?

Photo by Sasha Wolff

Earlier this month, I posted an excerpt of a column by Mary Ann Miller. Though it was written decades ago, it still rings true, especially when she said, “It’s true that modern ideology still advocates free choice, but somehow the choice of full-time homemaker doesn’t garner the same respect and interest as choosing to be an astronaut.”

One commenter took issue with this statement:

And what sort of respect and admiration do you expect to get when the ones to benefit from the choice you made are your immediate family, as compared to someone whose choices benefit many hundreds of people? In other words, if your choice is to be a full-time mother, you can expect to receive the respect and admiration of your family because they are the ones who benefit, but why would you expect to receive any acknowledgement from other people who gain nothing from your choice? If your choice is to be an astronaut, you can expect to receive the respect and admiration of everyone whose life your work touches.

I responded in the comments there, but the more I think about this, the more this type of thinking bothers me. Let’s set aside how very ego-centric it is to only respect those who do something to directly benefit your life. Let’s look at the standard here—and I’m not trying to pick on this commentator, but using this comment to illustrate a pervasive, destructive thought pattern that undermines mothers.

Here’s our logic:

• Astronauts can expect to receive the respect and admiration of everyone whose life their work touches.
• Mothers can expect to receive the respect and admiration of only their children and husbands.

Seeing it yet?

In this line of thinking, a mother can only receive respect from someone who she works with directly, her immediate family. An astronaut, on the other hand, can “expect” to receive admiration from “many hundreds of people,” who benefit from her work (and here’s a niggling point: this argument says astronauts should get respect for everything anyone in their profession has contributed to society—but not so for mothers).

So what, exactly might that benefit be? Can you name one thing an astronaut has done to make your life better?

Now name one thing your mother did to make your life better.

Now name one thing her mother did to make your life better. A friend’s mother. Your child’s friend’s mother. Another mom in your neighborhood.

So why is it that a mother can only receive respect from the people she serves directly, but an astronaut can receive respect for all of her colleagues’ collective contributions to society? Why can’t we take mothers as a force, too?

Mothers do not only benefit their own families. Having a mother at home can benefit the neighborhood—mothers can touch the lives of their children’s friends—mothers can influence generations. An astronaut doesn’t teach children to get along, to share, to read, to write, to sing, to love, to laugh, to live. We influence our children, and through them, all they come in contact with for the rest of their lives. A mother is the most influential career any of us could have.

Or, as G.K. Chesterton put it in his “guest post” here:

How can it be a large career to tell other people’s children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one’s own children about the Universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone?

So yes, I suppose I do agree that all mothers deserve the respect of those who have benefit from any one mother’s time, effort, talents, love. Has your life benefited from any nurturing woman?

Photo credits: astronaut—Brian Talbot; globe—Sanja Gjenero

I can’t remember how I came across this poem. Isn’t that sad? But however I came across the poem, I noted it to blog later.

So go ahead and read the full text of the poem ”
To be of use” by Marge Piercy. (It’s under copyright, so I won’t put the whole thing here.)

The poem lends dignity to the kind of labor that often goes unnoticed—like the labor of motherhood does. The thesis of the poem is that this work isn’t degrading because it’s dirty or difficult. Instead, it’s almost ennobling:

But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.

I can’t think of anything more “worth doing” than bringing up the future. That is the work of motherhood—to instill morals and character into the rising generation. And that job well done—when we get to see our family as good, functioning, contributing adults—I think (and hope and pray!) that will have “a shape that satisfies” unlike any other endeavor we can make in this life.

I’m striving to catch a glimpse of that shape that satisfies every day as I’m in the process of doing “a thing worth doing.” Little things—Hayden spontaneously thanking my grandfather for taking him on a walk, Rebecca blowing kisses, the two of them playing together nicely—are little daily evidences that the job is not only worth doing but going well so far.

How do you see the satisfaction every day?

I really liked this next passage from a recent address given by President Monson to my church (see part one from last week):

Stresses in our lives come regardless of our circumstances. We must deal with them the best we can.

I often fall into that same trap—believing that if only I didn’t have to do all this “mothering stuff”/work/housekeeping/good works/church/alone, it’d be so much easier. But frankly, I would probably still find something to stress out about even if I had one less thing on my plate.

And all too often, I let the wrong thing slide. President Monson continues:

But we should not let them get in the way of what is most important—and what is most important almost always involves the people around us. Often we assume that they must know how much we love them. But we should never assume; we should let them know. Wrote William Shakespeare, “They do not love that do not show their love.” We will never regret the kind words spoken or the affection shown. Rather, our regrets will come if such things are omitted from our relationships with those who mean the most to us.

Usually, I get stressed because I’m trying to do too much—and often it’s not stuff that I need to do anyway. Beyond basic housecleaning and a couple hours of work per day, I don’t actually have to do a lot of the things that I make myself do or that I want to do.

Instead, if I focus on the work of motherhood: loving, and giving my children attention, suddenly those stresses that make my life so difficult—the stresses that I have put on myself—seem to go away.

What helps you relieve or lessen the stress of motherhood? How do you show your children your love?

Today we’ll pick up where we left off with Elder M. Russell Ballard’s talk “Daughters of God,” about the eternal importance of motherhood. Last time, he talked about gaining appreciation for the work of motherhood and its eternal importance, finding success in motherhood, reducing pressure on ourselves and enjoying our families and receiving support from our husbands.

Today we’ll get to look at his thoughts on what children can do to show their support for their mothers. As he warned us, some of these answers are very obvious, but I’ll bet that most of our children could use the reminder. Plus, having this come from a source other than their mother is always nice reinforcement.

The third question: What can children, even young children, do? Now, you children, please listen to me because there are some simple things you can do to help your mother.

You can pick up your toys when you are finished playing with them, and when you get a little older, you can make your bed, help with the dishes, and do other chores—without being asked.

You can say thank you more often when you finish a nice meal, when a story is read to you at bedtime, or when clean clothes are put in your drawers.

Most of all, you can put your arms around your mother often and tell her you love her.

And that moment, especially when it comes unbidden and at a time when our children might not know that we need it, is one of the simple joys of motherhood.

Elder Ballard’s final question is what our church can do for mothers. I figure that most of my readers aren’t actually members of our church, but if you’re interested in his answer, feel free to read the conclusion of his talk, “Daughters of God.”

Today we’ll pick up where we left off with Elder M. Russell Ballard’s talk “Daughters of God,” about the eternal importance of motherhood. Last time, he talked about gaining appreciation for the work of motherhood and its eternal importance, finding success in motherhood and reducing pressure on ourselves and enjoying our families.

Today we’ll look at what husbands can do to better support their wives. Sadly, these answers are not as extensive as the answers to the previous question, but they’re still invaluable.

The second question: What more can a husband do to support his wife, the mother of their children?

I know you’re all looking forward to these answers perhaps even moreso than you did the answers to his last question. (And you’re probably thinking, Couldn’t you have done this before Mother’s Day?)

First, show extra appreciation and give more validation for what your wife does every day. Notice things and say thank you—often. Schedule some evenings together, just the two of you.

Date night! Date night! And no, watching television together after the kids go to bed doesn’t count.

Second, have a regular time to talk with your wife about each child’s needs and what you can do to help.

This shows us that you notice things happening in our family and specifically the problems and needs each of our children have. It shows us that we’re not the only ones who see and care about our children. It shows us that you take your role as a father, an equal partner in raising our children, seriously. We like it .

Third, give your wife a “day away” now and then. Just take over the household and give your wife a break from her daily responsibilities. Taking over for a while will greatly enhance your appreciation of what your wife does. You may do a lot of lifting, twisting, and bending!

Couldn’t say it better!

Fourth, come home from work and take an active role with your family. Don’t put work, friends, or sports ahead of listening to, playing with, and teaching your children.

I remember an old column by advice columnist Carolyn Hax where, essentially, a man wrote in asking how to help his wife or girlfriend understand why he needed to go to a bar after work for a couple hours to decompress or escape before coming home. Naturally, his SO felt neglected and like he was trying to escape from their family. Carolyn basically asked him what was so terrible at home that he couldn’t stand to go there straight after work (and this underlying issue was what really needed to be addressed). This is how it can make us feel if you consistently put these other activities ahead of us.

This doesn’t mean that you can’t have a job, friends or other interests. But it does mean your family deserves at least the same amount of demonstrated attention and devotion that your other interests receive.

Doing these four things really isn’t asking much of husbands (I think). But they can mean a lot to us as wives and mothers. Any other suggestions?

Next time: What can our kids do?