Mother/Me

A SYTYCB Entry

The purpose of this blog, my second entry in this contest, and my second blog ever, is to spark conversation, complete with various viewpoints, feedback, and input. Hopefully anyway, because I could use it.

So as I mentioned in my previous blog, I am a mom to four. My daughters are 11, 9, 6, and my son will be 4 in October. I work a regular job for a company where I  teach jewelry classes among other things, and I am also self employed,  creating and selling art and jewelry. I do most of my business through my website, word of mouth, custom orders, and also commission based sales at locations I have a contract with. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that this means I am busy, and when I say busy I really mean half-crazed and running in  many directions at once, losing my car keys on an almost daily basis, only to find them in my hand.

While I wouldn’t trade my full, crazy life for anything, I have one thing that sticks out, or I should say into my mind. It’s that when I compare myself as a mom and my family as a whole, to other mom’s and other families I am faced with the fact that we’re a little different. Ok, ok, more than a little.

For example, my children only just got their first video game system, a Wii, in 2010. Until then they simply didn’t play them. Didn’t know how to play them. They ride bikes, climb trees, go swimming.

There are certain types of foods they have never eaten, and certain restaurants they have never been to. Instead we grow as much of our food as we can, and have healthy family meals at home.

We make some of our own clothes, we recycle, we don’t have traditional furniture, like, you know, couches or lay-z-boyz, as we simply don’t sit around watching television or playing video games enough to warrant it.

None of my children have their own phones, they would rather read a book than play Farmville, and even though their doctor says they are totally healthy, they look underweight on the chart compared with today’s growing curve of average. Did I mention the two old enough to be on the Honor Roll are? Well they are, but you’d never hear them brag about it. Not that they are perfect, far from it, but even though I feel like by all accounts we’re doing it right, I can’t help but get the feeling the other moms and kids look at us like we are doing it wrong. 

This is where I need your input.

Should my 11 year old have a phone, even though we all know she doesn’t need one?  Should they be allowed to take twinkies in their lunch even though I know and they know they’re filled with artificial ingredients that are beyond pronunciation? Is their aversion to video games really because I raised them well or because we have no couch to zone out on?

How can you tell the difference between whether or not you are doing the things for your kids because it’s what’s best, as opposed to it just being because that’s how you would live? They are little humans, with valued opinions on it all, no?

I know we were all taught as kids that you should be you and ignore the haters, and if someone doesn’t like you because of how you dress or where you live, then they are not a true friend anyway. We all also know that’s bullshit because the want to be social and accepted is about as second nature to humans as the need to breath and sleep.

I don’t want to read some book about some narrow study by some stuffy doctor in a suit, spouting off statistics. I’d like to hear from you, other moms, people with or around kids, teachers, etc., not test subjects.

I don’t have much spare time to go out and talk to people and out of my own peers I am one of very few with kids, the ones with kids just had them. I know parenthood is a crazy, juggling, balancing act crafted out of love, instinct, and sometimes a blind shot in the dark with a fervent prayer it hit’s the mark true, but a little help would be nice.  So here I am.

I’m listening…

Disclaimer: This post was written by a Feministing Community user and does not necessarily reflect the views of any Feministing columnist, editor, or executive director.

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