A Soul Cry from My Daughter

Dear Readers,

My daughter Emily (the mother of the triplets) has a wonderful blog --> 3-ring-circus.tumblr.com.  Like me, she uses the blog to send out to the blogosphere, to the world, her ideas, feelings, musings, trying to make sense of her life.  I found her most recent posting engaging and deeply profound.  I know my daughter and I know that she feels so deeply what she writes about.  I wanted to share her soul cry on my blog because after all she is a part of me; I raised her.  

And I want to say to the world how proud I am of her and her resilience in the face of overwhelming challenges; how she does get up every morning and tries to give my grandchildren the love and care they need even when she doesn't feel like doing so. 

March 13, 10:00 PM

This morning, I sat on the rug in my kids’ room, watching them play with their Mega Blocks. After three or four attempts to help them build a tower (the only thing you can build with Mega Blocks) followed by one of them knocking it down with glee, I was ready to scream. Or cry. Or run screaming and crying into another room. Which is what I did. (Okay, so I was screaming and crying on the inside.) I laid on my bed and was overcome by an immense feeling of boredom and despair. Then my eldest popped her head in the doorway and asked if she could come in. “Just close the door behind you,” I pleaded. But no. Three more little heads bobbed towards the bed. Back to the Mega Blocks we go.

The official Church position, and for my intents and purposes, the word of God himself is this:

By divine design, fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life andprotection for their families. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. In these sacred responsibilities, fathers and mothers are obligated to help one another as equal partners. Disability, death, or other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation. Extended families should lend support when needed.

So this, translated in my mind, sounds like this: In ideal circumstances (ie. the parents are married, alive, and able-bodied), the dad should work to pay the bills, and the mom should take care of their children in their home. At least while the children are young, mom’s primary focus should be on taking care of them, not on making money. That’s dad’s job. Both work for the good of the family focusing mainly on their own spheres of responsibility. But obviously, this can overlap. Dads are expected to pitch in w/ the kids and household chores. And if mom can manage to get all her stuff done and still have time to make some extra money on the side, well, then more power to her.  Maybe you agree. Maybe you don’t. But for me. this has been my understanding of How Life Works since I was a kid. And I’m not saying I disagree with it now. But I was thinking about this whole idea tonight and something struck me.

You see, the men (and by “the men” I mean Mormon men. In the USA. Who are middle class. So maybe none of this really applies outside of my little world…) Anyway, the men go to college where they spend all this time and money to figure out what career they want to pursue, get the education and training they need for said career, and then work in it for the rest of their lives. They may change careers at some point. But ultimately, and hopefully, they work at a job they enjoy while fulfilling their duty to provide for their family. There are a million different jobs out there. And any of them are open to them. The women, however, no matter what they studied in college or where they worked before having kids, all end up doing the same thing. Sure, some excel at baking. Others take on quilting. Some even learn photography. But we all are doing basically the same job: cooking, cleaning, caring for the children. We are all wiping bums and noses, making grocery lists, and picking up toys. My husband had endless choices when it came to deciding what he’d be doing with the vast majority of his time each day. I had one. 

I’m not saying this isn’t the way it’s supposed to be. I’m not saying I disagree with the church leaders who have taught this concept. I’m not shaking my fist at God (not over this, anyway.) I mean, if you take this line of thinking far enough, you start thinking, this isn’t fair. Why can’t I choose something else? I don’t think I would. I couldn’t imagine putting my kids in day care. It would kill me. I couldn’t imagine leaving them with a nanny, or even a close relative. Not all day, five days a week. It’s going to be hard enough sending my firstborn off to preschool next fall. So obviously, on some level, I chose this as the best (if only) option. 

And it’s not as if I cried with boredom and despair this morning because it’s all simply too easy for me. I’m not so smart/capable/awesomely talented that I’m bored with being a SAHM. In fact, I’m not a very good homemaker. At all. My husband recently pulled the bed away from the wall to reveal a huge patch of mold. Growing on the wall. I didn’t even know you had to check for things like mold. On walls. Behind beds. And there it was all this time. So you see, I’m not very good at this. And that’s only a part of the job description. There’s this whole “shaping of the future generation” aspect of my job description. Isn’t that amazing? I’m doing the most important work a person could do! Ever! SO IMPORTANT, PEOPLE!!!!! (How many times have I heard that in Relief Society?) All sarcasm aside, it does make me feel great when I teach my daughter a new concept. Or when the babies start to do the little hand motions to the “Five Little Monkies” song we’ve been singing every day for weeks straight. I am trying to take this seriously. I even thought about coming up with a curriculum to follow each day. I wrote it on my to-do list and everything. But every time I looked at it, I found something else to do. Because just looking at it made me want to simultaneously cry and fall asleep. 

So where does this leave me? I know that choosing to stay home with my kids was the right choice. I know that giving my time to the nurturing of my children and the upkeep of our home is very, very important. I also know that all this esoteric contemplation may come across selfish at worst and annoying at best. (So thank you for not leaving snarky comments.) But I still am left with the fact that tomorrow, I’m going to have to get up and do everything I did yesterday, Mega Blocks and all, and I really, really need to figure out how to be happy doing it. Or just not consumed with boredom and despair. Any ideas on how? And bonus points if you avoid using phrases like, “count your blessings” or “positive attitude.” I have an uncontrollable reflex that makes my eyes roll when I hear GospelSpeak. 

Okay, friends. Ready, GO! 

I wrote this last night, after a long, hard day. Today has been better. So maybe that’s my answer: just keep swimming.