Being a mom has messed me up.
Today–literally today–I’m 36 years old. When I was pregnant and 31, I decided I would stay home with my kids. I’d read articles and interviews about mothers in their 40s who were trying to re-enter the workforce and couldn’t figure out where they belonged after years away. Like every woman who has never had children, I was so knowledgeable about having children that I thought, “Well, stupid, just go back to doing what you were doing. Explain the resume gap by explaining that you had some kids.” [Italics are mine.]
Oh, the wisdom children bring.
See, I’ve always been a writer but it now feels less like an old friend and more like that skinny mom over in the corner of the library with the child who is actually putting away the toys he dragged out. Writing this post makes me uncomfortable, reminiscent of pulling on a pair of jeans that dried on the line instead of in the dryer. (See? I think I just mixed metaphors. Is it even called a metaphor? Sometimes I can’t remember.)
I began filling my writing portfolio in second grade. What started as a way to draw attention away from my poet-brother with an ode to the Easter bunny eventually led to a career as a paid writer. I have written speeches, newspaper articles, exhibit text, web content–all of it shared, spotlighted, microscoped. Never had a problem with it. But this blogging thing? Terrified. And I blame my children. It’s been five years since I’ve been a paid writer. They sucked those five years away from me and made me weak. They yanked me down from my mountain top.
Now, could it be that blogging, Twitter, and Facebook and their ilk have changed the world tremendously over the last five years so I can’t hide behind third-party publications anymore, and as an old-school writer I’m uneasy with the fact that I have to create my own platform, show my face to the world? No.
It’s the children. Always the children. They destroy confidence. In fact, I designed this site six weeks ago. I’ve been sitting on it for one main reason: I’m not sure I have anything useful to say.
But then I realized that what the world needs, really needs, is one more blog. So fuck it.
Hi Jess….good pic. It’s actually all three of us. Kelly is the cute one…hahaha. Yes the children will suck the life out of you and I think today’s parents let them — I have one who does and one who doesn’t.
My mother had the right idea….her generation didn’t let their lives be ruled by children. We were to be seen and not heard. I think there’s something to that!
Good luck with your blog you’re off to a good start!
Thanks so much, Nikki!
Good job! You are a great writer and I can’t wait for your next posting
Thanks, AP! As you can see, I’m replying a little late. Took me awhile to get into the groove of being a blogger.
I don’t have kids but all my friends do so I’m around them all the time.
I agree with what another commenter said, you can let them suck the
life out of you or not. And there was something to be said about the
parents, like the commenters and mine, who raised us but also had their
own interests and life. My Mom played a stripper in a play when I was only
four or five. Clearly, the suburban life was not for her!!!
It’s easier said than done to tell yourself as a parent to do just enough to make
everyone happy. But parenting has become the new, I don’t know, one-upmanship
or something like that. I live near a very exclusive California town where a lot
of women don’t have to work AND they can afford to send their kids to a $24,500/yr. kindergarten. When I pick up my friend’s kids, I watch the moms getting out of their
Escalades and Range Rovers and running in their Tory Burch flats to hug their little
ones.Still, I wonder what their lives REALLY are like.
If I were you, I’d look to role models, women who have raised good kids but also
had something that was theirs and theirs alone. Meredith Viera comes to mind.
She had three kids, dropped out for a few years, and look how well she’s STILL
doing. I know she had great help in I think her stay-at-home writer husband.
Kelly Ripa seems to be doing it. Oh, who the hell knows.
Fun post. Keep writing.
Thanks, wordactress! My thoughts exactly: “Who the hell knows.”
I’m so glad you did! I am so grateful we met through Great New Books-can’t wait to see where your writing takes you next.
Thanks so much, Hallie — right back at you!
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