feminism and motherhood

Ha.  Wow.  So someone pointed me to this article, about a French woman who says that  babies are “tyrants” and thinks having a life is more important than raising your children. (And Jezebel’s take on it, which I’m surprised I missed.)

Honestly, I expected to hate it and before I read more than the first paragraph or two, I was all, “RANT RANT! SELFISH SELF-OBSESSED PEOPLE!”  But then I read it, and while I don’t agree, I didn’t feel nearly as angry as some of the other articles I’ve read about modern parenting (the pumping thing, for instance).  I think because… well, she’s French & she’s got enough money to send her kids to boarding school.  That’s a world away from me.  I don’t know – I just feel like the types of people who have money & nannies & do “hands-off” parenting aren’t even worth arguing with.  Just add that to the long list of reasons to dislike them.  I met quite a number of people, in Prague, who we called “Trustafarians” – trust fund kids.  They’re all assholes and these are what they’re parents are like.

BUT, it did have me thinking about feminism & motherhood and all this “I need a life” stuff that mothers seem so obsessed with, lately.  And I feel like the pumping situation that I wrote about in the last two posts is the poor man’s (woman’s) version of hands-off mothering.  If that makes sense.

In many ways, I feel lucky and very different from all the mothers I’m reading about and all the “mommy blogs.”  I don’t resent my kid (I’m not saying they all do, but a lot of them sure sound like it).  I don’t feel like I’m struggling to maintain a sense of identity.  And I’m not looking for ways to make my life more “convenient” with him.  Mr Nikki & I have our struggles and I am by NO MEANS a perfect mother.  Just a couple weeks ago, I called him sobbing and asked him to come home because Nugget had bad gas (lesson: always warm the bottles) and cried for 3 hours straight.  I was having a particularly tired week and wasn’t feeling equipped to deal with 3 hours of crying.  I got so worked up, I slammed a bottle down on the counter – a glass bottle, which shattered, in my hand, and sliced up two of my fingers.  (THAT’S when I called him.  I also bought more BPA free plastic bottles.  Ahem.)  I’ve had raging insomnia for the past week and a half, and Nugget has woken up at 4am, 5am and 3am the past three nights.  (Usually he’ll sleep till 7.)

Is it easy?  No.  It’s fucking hard most of the time.  All you parents know that.  I never expected it to be easy.  I expected to have to just keep my head down and plow through much of the time.  But I never look for ways to cut corners or make it more “convenient.”  I never wish it was different or wonder “what if.”

And maybe it’s because I’ve truly been to “rock bottom” before and because I’ve lived, what I feel, is a rather extraordinary life.  Even the very worst bits of it.  But fuck, I lived in Europe for THREE  YEARS, on my own much of the time.  I’ve traveled.  I dated a lot.  I’ve spent the wee hours wandering around Prague at a time when even the Charles Bridge was nearly empty.  I’ve danced all night.  Many nights.  I had the greatest 30th birthday a person could ever imagine, in Prague.  I spent 3 weeks running around Portugal without a job or a home or a plan.  I’ve lain on the floor of a tiny little flat in Prague, sobbing and full of pills – for sleep, depression, anxiety and had blood-curdling, screaming fights and fell so hard that all I could do was claw my way back up.  I’ve made many friends.  I’ve fallen madly in love.  I’ve fallen madly in hate.

I never wanted to settle down or have children.  Then one day, all that changed.  I’ve been chasing down happiness (and never finding it) all my life.  The past 10 years have been an incredible journey of self discovery.  And perhaps that’s why I feel so strongly about all of this.

I’ve read articles about women feeling “oppressed” by motherhood and cutting corners that I’ll bet  will turn out to be very, very painful once the kids are all grown up, for the sake of “convenience” and “me time.”  I’ve read about the struggle to “have it all,” and the struggle to keep a sense of self after having children.

But I can’t relate to any of it.

My 20s were one big fucked up, selfish period.  I had “me” time.  My biggest struggle in life (oh, the years of therapy) have been all about being able to really be with another person, to be able to live without fear & to learn what it really means to give of myself.

I’m still working on that in my marriage.  (My husband… he’s the most patient & adoring man I’ve ever come across.)

But my relationship with my son?  I view that as the greatest opportunity a person can ever have to really give of themselves, to be truly selfless and love someone wholeheartedly.  I was looking forward to not focusing on ME, for once.  I would still LOVE to be traveling all the time.  I still get wistful about the fact that, had I not met Mr Nikki, I’d probably have taken off to Thailand for a few years.  (Do I regret it?  Not at all.)  I miss being able to sleep in.  I miss being able to do things whenever the hell I feel like it, I wish I had more time for classes & yoga & whatever.

But are those things more important to me than this amazing, small amount of time (for the years pass by quickly) I have to be with Nugget?  No.  Appreciating this time & giving so much of myself to him feels so much better than “me time,” whatever that means.

I was bummed out about breastfeeding because I hated sharing him.  When my parents came to visit & would take turns feeding him, for example.  I wanted that to be “our” time.  It was the only thing I had that was just he & I.  And I’ll be blunt – I think those mothers who “choose” to pump, instead, because breastfeeding is “inconvenient”, are assholes and they’ll regret it years down the line.

Why have children if all you want to do is complain about it? Why have children if, every moment, your focus is on thinking about your “me time” and when you’ll have time to yourself?

I’ve never called myself a feminist, because, quite frankly, I think the common definition of feminism is stupid & has caused a lot of damage.  It seems, to me, that feminism comes along with a whole lot of selfishness.  What’s so terrible about reveling in all that’s unique to women?  What’s so fucking awful about being happy taking care of your child, about finding joy in these simple things?  What’s so horrible about finding joy in your child?  Calling them “tyrants” is wrong on so many levels.  They didn’t ask to be born.  They didn’t come knocking on your door, demanding that you give birth to them and let them run your lives.  And they certainly aren’t self-sufficient, so you should expect that if you have one or two, a fair amount of sacrifice will be involved.  And if you can’t handle the sacrifice, then don’t get pregnant.

To say that motherhood is oppressing in any way… I don’t even know where to begin with that statement.  I know that some people feel that way.  I think it’s sad that some people feel that way.  (I think it’s even sadder that people with children feel that way.)  Personally, I found it to be the most freeing thing I’ve ever done.

I’ll never be one of those people who loves motherhood so much that I think EVERYONE should do it.  I think it’s a choice and there is absolutely nothing wrong with choosing to not have children.  Women are under no obligation to do so.  In fact, from all I’ve been hearing lately, most women shouldn’t.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *