Motherhood: a realization and confession to myself

With Rex gone at Scout Camp this week, I have only my kids to keep me company. As you are all very aware, I am not very ecstatic about being a mom. I have been miserable about 90% of the time. But I have admitted that as the kids have gotten older, my misery has lessened. While they still fight and cry most of the time, it has decreased. While they still can't wipe their own behinds very effectively, I only have one person's diaper to change now. While they still can't prepare their own food, they will now eat what they've agreed upon about half the time. While I still wake up to screaming or crying, they can now get out of their rooms by themselves in the morning. While I still do all the chores, my kids beg to help me and, even though I hate that it takes 100 times longer, I am learning the art of teaching them to work. (I'm also currently reading a book on it by an LDS author.) What I'm saying is that I don't hate being a mom anymore. I still don't love it like all those phony-smiley women in Relief Society declare. But I don't necessarily feel like the only reason for being a mom is to fulfill the commandment to multiply and replenish the earth. True, I still think if I knew what it was really going to be like, I wouldn't have been so obedient. I'm a selfish person and still wish I could have lived a little before being tied down. But I keep reminding myself that when my kids grow up, I'll still be young enough to do the things I'd like to do (and I pray Rex will feel young enough to have fun with me!) And maybe, if I do my job right, I won't have to wait till they move out....

But, when the kids are in bed and I'm all alone and missing my husband, I realize I'd be lost without my kids. For good or bad, they are my identity. I am Mom, not Julie. And if I lost my husband in some fatal accident, I think the only way I'd be able to cope is by taking comfort in my kids. As angry as they make me, I confess I love them with all my heart. And on rare occasions that are becoming more frequent as they get older, I actually feel happy about my family. And maybe eternity with them won't be so bad; they probably won't be fighting and crying in heaven.

I see other mothers with newborn babies and while they are so delicate and cute, I thank God I don't have to go through the baby phase again. "Just wait till they're teenagers!" people say to me when I have a tantrum on my hands in public. Maybe I'm naive, but I actually do look forward to when they are almost-grown-ups so I can talk to them and have them understand what I'm saying, so they can do and think for themselves. Teenagers aren't always rebels. My parents may have thought I was something of one and I still think they were crazy for thinking so because, well, just look at all the other teenagers. The youth in our ward are outstanding and I think most people say that about the youth at church. Stubborn though our kids are, when taught right, they can become allies in their teenage years.

The bottom line is that I've come to the point where, even though I generally don't enjoy motherhood day in and day out, I can honestly admit that I don't regret it. This week when I miss Rex, I am grateful to have my kids' companionship. When Rex isn't home to hold me at night, I am happy I can hold my kids.

I came across an article that I found really interesting considering the range of emotions I've felt regarding my divine role: True or False, Having Kids Makes You Happy. The article polls groups of people about different things and the article's conclusion is False, having kids does NOT make you happy. http://www.newsweek.com/id/143792?GT1=43002 The interesting thing is that I actually disagree with it. While I can't exactly say that having kids has made me very happy up to this point, I think that having kids will make me happy soon and I will be happier overall than had I not had kids. I do think kids makes marriage a lot harder and can add to the stresses that break them because kids can easily get in the way of nurturing a marriage if you're not careful. But when I consider what most other parents' lives are like, both working outside the home, if both are even together, and all leftover time is shuttling kids from one extra-curricular to another and doing chores and errands they couldn't do while they were both at work, and even when the kids are teenagers the parents still serve them and give them their every desire. I take a look at my neighbors and see how they are training their kids to expect the world to give them everything they want. I see how the parents of the kids in Rex's class tear their kids' lives up through divorce, neglect, or other unmentionables. I learn all the things not to do from the examples of non-church-going people. And then I sit in awe of the wonderful parents of upstanding kids who are old enough to think and act for themselves, and I think maybe I'm doing a better job than I think and maybe my kids will become good people too and I can take joy in the greatest accomplishment of all: my family. You know, nothing that is worth it is enjoyable 100% of the time; usually, work is more work than not. With all my grumbling about kids and not getting to do what I'd really like to do with my life, I DO have moments of happiness with my children. Sometimes I'm embarrassed or ashamed of things they do, but more often I'm proud of them and I see their growth and am so happy they have already learned to make better choices than most other kids their ages. So Does Having Kids Make Me Happy? I think it does to a degree. But I'm not done yet. I think the hardest part is behind me. Go ahead and say I'm naive. But I think it gets better. From where I was standing 2 years ago, it already has. Maybe it's not a "bundle of joy" like the article mentions, but I see the joy of the fruit of the labor through the example of many other families at church, even if I can't say that about families NOT at church.

And looking back at James' screaming days (age 2 to 4), I am astonished at what a good boy he is and, although very annoying as little boys are, he does make me happy. They say to cherish the baby days, but if James is evidence of what kids can become, I can't wait till Megan and Isaac are 5 or 6 years old. I do not miss James' baby/toddler days and I certainly don't miss Megan's either. So the way I see it, I have a lot to look forward to; as long as I don't screw up my job, having kids can make me happy.