Mothering, for J mainly

A friend of mine recently sent a plea into cyberspace.
New Stay At Home Mom. I'm very pregnant. I already have a two year old. It's Hot. Suggestions?

Well, I scribbled off some nonsense. Schedule, flexibility, yadayadayada.

And then, tonight, as Elspeth went up to the bath, covered in tomato, sand, and tears, I faced the kitchen alone. The floor was covered in pita bread and couscous. Dishes stuck out their dirty tongues from every corner. Weariness spread through me, radiating out from the pit of my stomach. I entertained the temptation to flee and spend some time outdoors, but as even as I put a mental foot out the door, I began thinking so hard about something else that I forgot to care about what I was doing.

This often happens, and it is the key, I think, to enjoying "stay-at-home-mothering." That is, the way to enjoy yourself immensely and your children more. Turn to drink.

Just kidding. Actually, the secret is CULTIVATING YOUR INNER LIFE. This of course, is only one of the secrets, and can not be what it should be without a community in place. And a sense of enjoyment.

This sounds really corny, like a promo-talk or a powerpoint-driven empower yourself gobbelty gook. But here goes, anyway. . .

When my inner life is full--when I'm engaged in a project, such as designing a new garden, writing a book or a short story or an essay, or simply enjoying a good book--then I am a much more energetic mother. I do not snap at Martin or melt or explode at the kids. I find myself singing and dancing and reading with the girls and enjoying them as friends as well as daughters. Developing a vibrant inner life takes discipline, support, and determination. It requires me to remember that I am young and full of energy, and some things are sacred but many are not. It helps me remember and trust in the presence of God and the goodness of the world.

It also helps rankling comments ("you're not employed, then") or categories ("housemother") to slide right off my back like oil. I am, like all other humans and my own children, undefinable. While others may slot me into a box it certainly doesn't alter who I really am. A rich inner life gives me strength not to have to defend what I'm doing--not to explain that I worked, stayed home by choice, and work on other things still. It gives me energy for good conversation and a thirst to continue learning. It helps me find others whom will challenge and excite me--who do not talk of their children every moment but of the book they just finished or the project they started.

If I am faithful to cultivate my own inner life (even if this is just 30 minutes of writing instead of cleaning during nap time, and writing dialogue for a story in my head while I cook dinner)--then my girls will follow suit. Merry already spends hours on her own, creating stories out loud and pretending. I think actually we're on the odd side, but that's okay. We even turn our conversation into operas sometimes, Merry singing one part about her mac and cheese and I the other about the plates or whatever the occasion calls for. When she was four, I picked her up from preschool and then we walked across the street to the tea room where she told me stories and I told her some of my own. The lovely tradition was banished of course when Elspeth came along, but the ritual of tea (at home or near the garden now) encourages us both in our own pursuits and in the enjoyment of one another.

Also, a beer at the end of the day--(or good chocolate if you're pregnant!) helps.

So let the dust build and write your libretto instead. Your children will thank you.