The "Selfish" Mom

I recently read a commentary by the famous blogger, cjane, that spoke wonders to my heart! I wanted to share it, and I hope the message comes across the same for you without making me sound crazy. These are her words about her own mother, that I am cutting and pasting directly from this link.

First question people always ask me, “How many children do you have?”

Second question people always ask me,”What was your mom’s secret to raising children?”

She must’ve had a secret, she had nine babies and didn’t go insane. But if you ask her she’ll reply “I was just sent wonderful spirits!

But I answer, “She was self-centered.”

In a good way. Like, when you are getting safety instructions on a plane and the stewardess explains that if the oxygen masks fall, put the mask on yourself first, and then on the child next to you.

Or I could explain it in another way.

Remember those wood painted signs in kitchens that read “If momma ain’t happy ain’t nobody happy?” (do you have one in your own kitchen?) my mother was a good example of those words (although, she did not have one in her kitchen.)

My mom didn’t sign us up for every lesson, team or passing whim. She didn’t want to spend her life drifting here and there in our suburban. When we expressed real interest in a particular past time she saw to it that we had the training we needed, but it was never obsessive.

We went on vacations and family outings to places that she loved. If she read a book about Antelope Island, we’d pile in the suburban the next Saturday and spend our day on that big brown mound in the middle of the Salt Lake. And it was fascinating to us, because it was mesmerizing to her.

She loved to hold tea parties for us. The tea was delicious sugar water, served with Fig Newtons. No child likes Fig Newtons. But that didn’t stop my mother, who thought them quite divine, from buying them weekly.

We did a lot of shopping, because she loved shopping–but only to stores that carried her size as well. So it was that I became a Nordstrom shoe fanatic. Just last month she bought me two pair for my birthday. And two pair for herself.

There were times of course, when she felt divinely inspired to do that which she didn’t want to do. On my first day of preschool–just down the road–she walked me while pushed my siblings in the stroller. “I need to tell you something,” she said to me very seriously, “I don’t believe in preschool because I want my children to be at home with me. But for some reason I feel that you are supposed to go this year.” I had a lump in my throat, I didn’t want to go either.

I met my best friend that day at preschool. A loyal, supportive best friend who I needed very much in my life.

And 12 years later that friend and I were having a discussion about boyfriend trouble when I suggested to her that she solicit advice from her mom. “I can’t do that.” she protested “She’s not like your mom.”

She always talked me in to handmade invitations because store bought ones were so unoriginal. We had Brick Oven pizza because any other pizza in her mind was lesser. She didn’t “do” wedding receptions because they were too formal, so we had dinner parties. And when she became a grandma she insisted that we called her “Umi” which is mother in Arabic and she loves anything Arabian.

In short, my mother survived because she was smart enough to see that a little bit of quiet time for her, made for a lot of personal time for us. If she fed herself, she would have enough energy to feed us. Her sacrifice came from giving up pride in the holy mother quest. And she didn’t wear motherhood like it was Sainthood–she wore it like a smart pair of Nine West shoes.

There is something to be said about a bunch of siblings that come out of a happy home. We knew what it was like to please our mother, to make her laugh, sing and dance. In turn, we all turned out alright. Not perfect, but happy.

And that, I suppose, is her secret.

I believe this is the first time I've really felt understood when I say that I'm a "selfish" mom. I really don't mean that in the stuck-up sort of way. But as this article explains (or my take on it anyway...) it's ok to do things that I want to do. It's ok to get away and be alone sometimes. Sometimes I'm the one who needs to make the choices and my kids have to be ok with that. I don't see this as an act of literal selfishness, but rather prioritizing, which increases my ability to do my job well.

To some, it might appear "mean" that I don't need (or want?) to be consumed with my children 24/7. And while I do admire the patience and tolerance of a mother who CAN do that, I don't think it's necessarily the right thing to do either. I DO NOT have to give myself up completely to be a mother. In fact, I'm a BETTER mother as a result of not doing so. Taking time for myself has kept me from going insane... and that's a good thing.