s a r a h c a s m

I just read this post by Maria at Bored Mommy.  The following was a comment that was left on her blog (unedited).

“Why is it that you call yourselves “mommies”? It’s infantile, like being called a girl instead of a woman. If giving birth (or adopting) and raising a child is so important, why don’t you insist on the dignity of the word “parent”? Or “mother” — if you insist on focusing on gender as well? I am a parent and I was “mommie” only to my children and then only when they were young. No wonder men and childfree women don’t take you seriously: You are endlessly self-absorbed, boring, juvenile, and have nothing to say for yourselves beyond your reproductive status and childrearing.

I take issue with a lot of what is in this comment, some of which I’ll tackle, some I won’t dignify with a response.

First of all, I call myself “mommy” because that is what I am – that is what my son calls me.   There are many words that describe me, but at this point, I am most proud of mommy.  Call me mother, mommy, mom, mama, ma… it doesn’t change who I am and what my relationship is to my son.  I don’t consider any one more dignified than another because they all boil to the fact that I am responsible for raising the most amazing kid I’ve ever known.

I rarely refer to myself as mommy in the public or online sphere – mostly because my blog preceded my endless self-absorption and preoccupation with my reproductive status and child rearing efforts.  I don’t discourage it or shy away from it, though; I talk about being a mommy, about my son, about what I’ve learned from him; I share stories of his growth and his milestones…

There is no job that I have ever taken more seriously than raising the human who calls me mommy, and if there is anything  infantile about the word, it is because it is tailored to children who are learning to talk!

I am a parent, but I prefer to not be called that.  I have no interest in being gender-neutral.  There is nothing wrong with my gender, in fact, I embrace it.  I am a woman – you can even call me girl for all I care, just don’t strip me of my gender identity.

Ultimately, this comment left on Maria’s blog is not about me; it is about the woman who left it.  However, to her I say, I am one proud mommy.

Dear Q,

In a momentary lapse of judgement, clarity . . .sanity, I surrendered my happiness to the expectations of someone else. Actually, it wasn’t even that person’s expectations that I surrendered to, but my assumption of what those expectations were.

There are many lessons to be learned from this about assumptions, expectations, happiness, and sacrifice.  I am going to focus on expectations.

In this world, there are few things more powerful than expectations. They govern our emotions, our actions, and our reactions.  If they are not met, we feel fear, anger, disappointment, frustration, sadness, and sometimes. . . relief.  When they are met, we feel elated, satisfied, happy, relieved, and sometimes. . . disappointed.  The emotional reaction is relative to the expectations.

Expectations are complicated and more powerful than this world would have you believe.  Society expects specific behaviour of people who belong to any given collective, including racial identity, gender identity, sex, ability status, economic status, education level, age, religion, etc.  Failure to meet these expectations is often met with fear and persecution.   The expectations form the box within which each person is (awkwardly) placed.  The boxes, built with expectations, are all labeled and neatly stacked with others that are presumably the same – in nice homogeneous stacks.  At least, that is what this would would have you believe.

Society also expects things of individuals.  Individuals expect things of individuals.  These expectations vary relative to the individual for whom they are created.  Parents have expectations of their children – from cleaning up, to getting married.  Teachers have expectations of their individual students.  Children have expectations of their parents and their teachers.  The general public has expectations of public figures, athletes, politicians, artists, musicians.  Bosses have expectations of their employees.  Employees have expectations of their bosses – respect, money.  Customers have expectations of service providers, etc.  The list is endless.

They say that money makes the world go ’round, but no one tells you that the structure that money flows within is built on expectations.  It’s deep and it’s complex and it’s powerful.

If this sounds confusing, that is because it is; it’s supposed to be.

Manage your expectations – check them.  Where do they come from?

Of whom do you expect things? Why?
Who expects things of you? Why?

Are your expectations reasonable? Are they just?  Assess your reactions to unmet expectations of other people.  Are they reasonable?  Are they just?

I will tell you that meeting expectations, or at least appearing to, is far easier than not.  It is difficult and sometimes dangerous to defy them – it can lead to jail, death, but also freedom.

We are bound by expectations.  They keep us in our boxes and make us safe and predictable.  But in so doing, they leave us crumpled, trapped, and gasping for air.

Be aware of what is expected of you.  As often as possible, manage the expectations others have of you as an individual.  Don’t imply that you will when you won’t.   Don’t suggest you won’t if you intend to.

If this seems daunting, it’s because it is.  Expectations are hard to navigate and this world will condition you to not even realise that they are there.

Be strong.  Be you.  Be free to seek your true happiness based on what you know to be true, not on what someone else expects you to believe.  Above all, be.

Love always,
Mom

I have always believed that two people in the same situation at the same time experience (and remember) it differently.  People perceive things differently, interpret things differently, and remember the pieces that are important to them, good or bad.  No two people have the same experience.

A strange thing happened to me the other day that confirmed this for me.  I got home after lunch with a friend and realized that I had missed a call on my cell phone.  There was a message.  I listened to the message and could hear strange background noises.  Curiosity kept me from skipping and erasing it.  I heard my friend’s voice – the one who I had been with for lunch.  I heard her placing her order at the restaurant and realized that she must have called me accidentally while we were out.

I listened to that message for 3 minutes and nothing, not one thing, sounded even vaguely similar to the lunch I remembered sharing with my friend.  It was surreal.  I even heard my own voice and didn’t recall saying what I heard.

What her phone ‘heard’ and mine recorded was vastly different than the experience I remembered having only moments before – and that doesn’t even take into account the perceptions, interpretations, and assumptions that people make.

The whole thing was just surreal.  She and I had parallel experiences that, at the time, we thought we were sharing.

Haiti was struck by an earthquake.  A devastating one.  It has likely killed hundreds of thousands of people, but no one really knows because victims are trapped under rumble – babies, children, toddlers, teenagers, women, men, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, grandmothers, grandfathers…

Natural disasters have no target.  Earthquakes know not whose lives they take.  There is no political motivation.  There is no motive of revenge.  It is not tactical or strategic.  It is science – plate tectonics and other things that I have a lot of interest in, but very little clue about.

I have heard unsettling responses in the aftermath of the quake – and I am not going to dignify any idiotic, racist public figures by talking about theirs.  I am thinking of people I know, people I follow on Twitter, people I overhear in public.

The most striking response I’ve heard has been the we have problems here at home, why should so much of our money leave the country.  Really?  People are dying.  People are buried alive.  People are suffering with no food, water, shelter, or infrastructure.  And, you are making this about money?  Really?  You are worried about national identity and taking care of our own?  That degree of nationalism scares me.  To think that sharing citizenship with someone makes them more deserving of your care is frightening.

Don’t resent that attention is being given to Haiti in the media, on Twitter, by celebrities.  Don’t make this about you.  Don’t make this about your country.  This is not about you – it is about the people of Haiti.

Take a second and think beyond your borders.  Think beyond what is happening in your country.  The people of Haiti deserve your attention because they are suffering.  They may not be the only ones in the world, but that doesn’t mean they suffer any less.

When in doubt, love (and give… time, money, whatever).

If I was being paid for this job, I’m pretty sure I would have been fired by now.

I am a SAHM (stay at home mom).  The job description is pretty extensive and the rewards are the opposite of monetary.  I do love being a SAHM and spending time with my son – in fact, I am hard pressed to think of anything I’d rather do with my days.

I have the mom-thing down pretty well by now.  I am confident that I am doing a good job in that department (aside from the fact that he is sitting in his highchair, eating crackers and watching TV while I write this).  Q is excelling in his fine & gross motor, language, and social skills.  He is friendly, active and extremely good-natured.

No, the M in SAHM would not get me fired… but, the H might do me in.

Home.  I hate doing housework.  I do not keep up with dishes, laundry, vacuuming, tidying, sweeping, wiping, dusting (what is that), putting things away, making phone calls to get things done around the house, running errands, grocery shopping, cooking… the list is endless and my motivation, minimal.

Don’t get me wrong… I love, love having a clean, organized house.  It clears my head and makes me feel more peaceful.  The problem is getting it in that state and then keeping it there.

Right now as I scan my living space, I see a pile of dishes, clothes on the living room floor, toys strewn everywhere, and visible crumbs on a carpet that I could have sworn I vacuumed only yesterday (in fact, the vacuum is still parked in view as evidence).

So, here I sit thinking about the piles of clean laundry in our bedroom that desperately need to be put away, the bathrooms that need my attention, the garbage that is less than fragrant, the kitchen table that still dons a Christmas tablecloth, and the computer room  that is currently doubling as a storage area.

Thinking about it just makes me wanna take a nap.  Ugh.

Today, I took Q to an open gym for toddlers at the local community centre.  For almost 2 hours, he threw, danced, kicked, and ran with abandon.

I realized 3 things after today’s excursion:

1. Our suspicion that his althletic abilities are above-average for his age are probably valid.
2. His is better behaved around other kids and in a public setting than I’ve been giving him credit for.
3. We should do it more often.

It was great to watch him play with abandon in a safe place (hockey sticks excluded).

I would like to thank Maria from Bored Mommy for giving me a Kreativ Blogger Award.

I appreciate that you think I deserve it and I am honoured to accept it.

The rules for accepting this award are:

1. Thank the person giving the award
2. Copy the award to your blog
3. Place a link to their blog
4. Name 7 things people don’t know about you
5. Nominate 7 bloggers
6. Place a link to those bloggers
7. Leave a comment letting those bloggers know about the award

The SEVEN Things People Don’t Know About Me:

1. I, fundamentally, do not not believe in hierarchy
2. I have absolutely no reservations about going to dinner or a movie all by myself
3. I have never been afraid of dying
4. I believe that what I know is more important than what I’ve been taught to believe
5. I was once given a commendation for saving a woman’s life
6. A random man once proposed to me on the Great Wall of China
7. I really, really don’t like being told what to do (to a fault)

Here are the 7 bloggers I nominate for the Kreativ Blogger Award (no particular order):

1. Holly at Domestic Dork
2. Shawn at what.will.you.be,Pea?
3. Jenn at Princess Prose
4. Jacki at Our World from A to Z
5. Loukia at Loulou’s Views
6. Sarah at Love Laugh Shop
7. Miranda at Qt’s World

So, it’s 2010.  Five days ago, we ushered in a new year and a new decade.  10 years ago, we ushered in a new millennium.  In some ways, it feels like yesterday… in other ways, it seems like a lifetime ago.

As I reminisced about the past 10 years, I started thinking about my 10-years-ago self – who I was, who I wanted to be, and where I thought I’d be in 2010.  I think that it is safe to say that my 10-years-ago self would recognize me now.  I also think it is safe to say that she wouldn’t be overly surprised at where I am now & what I am doing with my life.

It got me thinking about what I would say to her if given the chance (as inspired by Richard Bach’s book, One)… I’ve been thinking about it for days.

Ushering in 2000. The 10-years-ago me.

I am really happy with my life right now and I wouldn’t want to advise her to change anything in the course of her life.  I wouldn’t discourage her from making any choices that I’ve made during the last decade.  I’ve learned from every decision I’ve made and they have all shaped me and guided me to this moment.

There are a few things I would tell her, though…

1. It’s not about you.  Nothing people say, do, or think about you is actually about you; it’s about them.  It is a reflection of them, not you.

2. Surrender yourself to peace – let go and be.

3. Focus your energy on what you want, not what you don’t want.  Appreciate what you love about the people in your life instead of dwelling on how you would change them.

4. There is no such thing as empty calories… even when pregnant.

I have no idea what the next year (or 10) hold for me, but I am going to do my best to follow the advice that I would give my 10-years-ago self if given the chance.