"Natural" Mothering

Confession: I have a really hard time with women who look at me and my children and say that they could never be mothers. Women who say they are not compassionate and nurturing and therefore will not raise children. I'm not saying anyone should have kids if they don't want them, because that is not my choice to make and I would never presume to make it for someone else (especially since I am not the one who would be cleaning up said child's vomit at two in the morning).

But I really hate this idea that mothering is innate; that all women are born nurturing and loving, and if you don't have that you should never be a mother and should probably feel like less of a woman. That if you do not want to hold every baby in a five mile radius you are somehow a defective woman.

Being a mother is a skill. Being a PARENT is a skill. You learn it by watching and reading and trying and doing, just like anything else. And yeah, some people have an aptitude for it. Some people enjoy children and seek out "parental learning opportunities" when they are young, and some people don't. And that does not mean that those people are the only ones who should have children. Anyone can choose to develop those skills, and anyone can be good at it.

I also hate the idea that women are naturally nurturing and compassionate - that it just flows out of us spontaneously. (And the counter-idea that men are not.) Because here is the truth: I am not a naturally compassionate, nurturing soul. I'm just not. But just because charity isn't my first inclination does not mean that I don't behave that way. I always have the choice in how I react.

In our home, Husband and I have divided up the workload, and it is my primary responsibility to nurture the children. This works for us, and we both enjoy our different jobs. And part of the reason I enjoy my job is because it is a challenge for me, a stretch, to make myself a better person and react with kindness even when I REALLY don't feel like it.

Christmas day my little princess got a black eye. I didn't see what happened, something about wrestling and cousins and a recliner. It's a pretty nice bruise - turning black and green around the edges. Her brother also has a black eye, though his is less noticeable (he had a run-in with a kitchen chair). What can I say? They take after their mother and I'm not exactly what you would call graceful.

The next day she and her father were dancing or wrestling in the living room. (Sometimes it is hard to tell the difference.) She fell and hit the back of her head on the coffee table on the way down. She screamed, ran to me and then fainted. (Fun fact about head injuries - loosing consciousness is a bad sign)

My first thought as I held my limp little girl in my arms was: "Oh, the emergency room is so expensive! I don't want to have to pay for another trip this year." And my second thought was: "She already has a black eye. The nurses may feel suspicious enough to call child protective services. Better not bring the other kid who has a black eye." And then she woke up. She was hurt and coherent and mad. "Why did Daddy hurt me?" She wailed. "I did not want him to do that to me! Daddy hurt me!" And I thought: "Unless she starts bleeding and vomiting profusely, there is no way I'm taking her to the doctor. I wonder if I have any friends who could testify that she isn't being abused?"

And then, THEN after all that, I was sorry that my precious little darling was hurt. We got her an ice pack and cuddled on the couch and read stories.

The whole thing was very quick - less than five minutes. And she is totally fine. It is funny to me now. Especially since empathy and concern for my child are not even the SECOND thing that crosses my mind in an emergency. And you know what? I still held her and calmed her and cared for her injuries. I love her like crazy and she knows it. I'm a good mom. Even if it doesn't come "naturally."