Today I’m offering a parenting tip of a different sort: 

“bad mother” books. 

Do you ever get tired of thinking about how you should be a better parent?   Typically I love to read inspirational advice, but once in awhile, I need to be assured I’m normal — or at least not as bad as the “bad” mothers out there.  Lately, I’m on a roll.  I don’t know whether there’s something I’m doing or thinking that has attracted these into my life (perhaps that recent little identity crisis?), or if there’s just so many of them being published, but I have an embarassingly high stack of “bad mother” books on my shelf right now. 

I put “bad” in quotes because often, these mothers are just getting back to basics and rejecting some of the hype, materialism, overscheduling and overprotection that seems to be taking over parenting today.   Sometimes I find such books sassy, irreverent and refreshing, and they often include insights that really stick with me.  After awhile, they may sound a bit cranky and jaded, and when I get to that point, I’ll put them down and pick up the inspirational ones that help me become a better person.

So, if you’re intrigued and ready for a bit of rebellion, here is my “Bad Mother” book list.  I’ve linked to the Amazon pages so you can read the reviews on your own.  Since I haven’t been completely through the stack, please read at your own risk (some are a little PG-13):

Bad Mother:  A chronicle of maternal crimes, minor calamities, and occasional moments of grace by Ayelet Waldman

To Hell with All That:  Loving and Loathing our Inner Housewife, by Caitlin Flanagan

It sucked and then I cried:  How I had a baby, a breakdown, and a much needed margarita, by Heather B. Armstrong, aka dooce

Confessions of a Slacker Mom by Muffy Mead-Ferro

Switching up my reading lists works for me.  For more ideas to combat summer boredom, check out We Are THAT Family. 

Do you ever get a kick out of rebellious books?  Have you read any of these?  What would you add to the list?

Ever since I quit my full time job (when child #3 was born), I’ve had trouble answering that common question:

What do you do?

For an embarassingly long time I would answer some variation of “I’m a stay home mom, but I used to do something important. . . ” (well, not exactly that, but it crossed my mind).  Yes, I know being a full time mother is important — that’s why I made the choice to become one — but I felt like there was so much more to me than the stereotype of “stay home mom.”  Besides that, I hardly ever was at home. 

I’m still a (hardly ever) stay home mom, but I also teach parent workshops, I tutor, I spend lots of time writing (even if it’s online, not on paper), I volunteer here and there, and I am interested in all kinds of things.  I’m not comfortable picking one label that defines me.  I’m multifaceted.  Aren’t we all?

Caryn Dahlstrand Rivadeneira offers a great solution in Mama’s Got a Fake ID:  How to Reveal the Real You Behind All that Mom:

I’m a mom and _____________.

She suggests we think of one thing we’d like people to know about us and pair it with the awesome job of being a mom.  Some examples:

• I’m a mom and a gardener.
• I’m a mom and a lawyer.
• I’m a mom and a preschool volunteer.
• I’m a mom and a runner.

Or, go with active verbs and say:

• I raise kids and raise horses (dogs?  gerbils?).
• I write, volunteer at school and take care of my family. 
• I drive around in circles enriching my children (okay, maybe not impressive, but accurate!)

Somehow the active method is easier for me.  I don’t have to wonder, “Is it okay to call myself a writer?” when I’m perfectly comfortable saying that I write, because I do.  I guess that does make me a writer, but that’s another conversation. 

The mom and ____ phrasing serves as a conversation opener.  It connects being a mom with other passions and important parts of me.  It also provides a more accurate, natural and broader picture what a mom does and who I am.  So here’s the line I might use next time I get that question:

I take care of my family and write about my adventures. 

And help parents communicate better.  And tutor for the ACT.  And volunteer.  And run around in circles, sometimes.   Okay, I’ve got some focusing work to do!

How do you answer that dreaded question:  What do you do? 

Please check out Magpie Girl’s inspiring article on this same subject:  Speaking with Authority, and find other helpful “works for me” tips at We Are THAT Family. 

Read more of my reflections on the Mama’s ID book here.

photo credit: Sarahnaut

photo credit: Exolucere

I might be having an identity crisis. 

It hit me in the midst of an amazing Vienna Teng concert at our local hot spot The Ark, for so many different reasons. 

Vienna’s performance moved me.  She’s so talented, so sharp, so lyrical and poignant–you MUST check out her music.  She sings of intimate personal issues as well as major world events in a smart way that leaves interpretation up to the listener.  So I started interpreting, and suddenly, the whole concert was all about ME, of course.

I know that sounds crazy (and egocentric), but you see, Vienna went to my same university, so it got me thinking about my view of the world back then.  Like any college student, I had my whole life in front of me– a blank slate with so many options.  I wanted to do it all and honestly believed that I could.  She sang a beautiful song about world and life-changing events including the fall of the Berlin Wall, where I lived for a few months.   It was a powerful time in my life, when I first traveled the world, discovered my independence, and fell in love with a boy back home all at the same time.  Then she wrapped up with Grandmother’s Song, which starts out sounding like an old-fashioned honky tonk and finishes with a powerful message about pursuing a woman’s dreams.  It was perfect.  I loved it.

But after we got home, I blubbered like a baby.  My poor husband was so confused. 

I think I was mourning the young woman I used to be, the dreams I used to hold dear, and the passions I pursued.  Now let me be clear:  I love my life today.  I’ve been shaped and refined by the twists and turns, I don’t regret any choices we’ve made, and I wouldn’t go back if I could.  Life has led me in a direction very different from what I expected, and the blessings have been greater than I could imagine. 

I must admit, though, that there are pieces of me that I’ve pushed aside through these last few seasons of life.  And I feel like it’s time to reconnect with some parts of the me I used to be.  No, not all–I’m happy to leave a few parts by the wayside–but yes, some.

I’m reading a great book that speaks to this and much more:

Mama’s Got a Fake I.D.:  How to Reveal the Real You Behind All that Mom by Caryn Dahlstrand Rivadeneira.  She writes from a Christian perspective, but I think the issues about motherhood and cultural identity are universal.  As I work my way through this book, I hope to share with you some thoughts along the way.  Stay tuned.

For now, do you mourn parts of the person you used to be?  If so, come along the journey and let’s work it out together.   Tell me what you think.

I continue to be blown away by the awesome power of women. 

I don’t mean the super mom who does everything on her own, but the ordinary person who acts from the heart and pulls others along side her.   It doesn’t matter whether we’re feminist or conservative, career-driven or homemakers, religious or not, women in community have the power to change the world.  I’m inspired and humbled by all of you out there. 

I’m blessed to know a group of women at my church we call WowMoms.   It stands for Women of Wonder/Moments of Mission, but I like to call us wonder women (I know, that’s corny too).  Someone’s kids dubbed us “wild moms,” but we’re not that wild.  We are, however, wonderous.  In community.

We typically meet, eat, chat, laugh, pray, cry, and when time allows, study a good book.  Over the years, we’ve pulled together to help out friends in need.  A few examples:

• A few years ago one of our members–a pillar of our community– burst a brain aneurism that nearly killed her.   The prognosis was dim.  People stepped up to provide meals, put up the family Christmas tree, take shifts at the hospital, and other creative means of support.  This amazing woman pulled through, and today inspires us all as a walking miracle.   But the real miracle was the transformation of our community as we shifted our focus into prayer and service.
• Awhile later another crisis arose.  It’s a really long story, but a three-year-old girl awaited a heart transplant, surviving with an artificial Berlin heart.  At first we didn’t know this family well, but women from our group rallied as best we could–cleaning house, babysitting her toddler twins, decorating her room, and even getting mom out for a party or two.  This child’s hospital ordeal lasted well over a year, and eventually she died–one of the saddest days I can remember.  Despite the tragic ending, this child’s story changed the lives of hundreds of people.  And her mom?  Amazing.  Of course, she’s a WowMom now, putting life back together with support of women who care. 
• Last December, a friend’s house burned down.   They lost everything.  So what do helpful women do?   Oh yes, we went shopping to create a semblance of Christmas for them.  Weeks later, women helped her sift through the remains for the insurance inventory.  And this Christmas, when she missed her cherished family heirlooms, she at least had the ornaments we selected for her tree.   A year later, the little gestures helped her through. 
• And recently, a little boy’s appendix burst, and the troops have deployed with visits, cards, sibling care, mom massage, and filling in where this servant mom shines.  He’s still in the throes of a dangerous recovery, so if you’d like to offer up a prayer for Robin  we’d really appreciate it.

I could wax on about how these women inspire me in little and big ways, not always in crisis.  I’m not the ring leader of this band of sisters; I show up when I can and they always welcome me.   I find an oasis of love and support in a crazy world.  As individuals, we’re flawed, but as group, the community is amazing.   They help me become a better person.

So here’s to Wonder Women:  women who do little things in community to change the world.

I bet you know some of your own wonder women (or men).   Tell me about it. 

And check out more tributes over here:

Yet Another Jay and Deb Production.

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on flux

What do I mean by “flux of life”? 

From the Free Online Dictionary:

flux (fluks) n.  1. a. A flow or flowing.  b. A continued flow; a flood.  2. The flowing in of the tide

 

As a child, I anticipated a straight path to success.  I was an ambitious girl, coming of age in the 80s, believing I could “do it all.”  I dreamed of being queen of the corporate world and a beautiful family.  Then reality rushed over me.  In reality, my life has flux-ed through the seasons:

college:  a river of rapids and whirlpools–turbulent, challenging, exciting, invigorating

20s/early marriage:  forging a new stream, building my flow, enjoying a rising tide

working mom of two babies:  an unexpected flood.  trying to keep my head above water.  struggling to balance.  gratitude in surviving.  reluctant to get out of the exciting waters.

baby number three:  time to move out of the flood zone and crawl up on the banks.  watching the career stream flow by.  seeking stiller waters.  finding a new stream. 

 mom of three young ones:  depending on the day, a varying flux–a steady drip, like water torture (not my metaphor), raging rapids, floods, or flowing tides. 

today–three kids in school, flexible work:   feeling more buoyant.  negotiating a new stream.  anticipating more “flux” to come.

Along the journey, I fluctuate.  Sometimes I struggle.  Sometimes I know my choices are right.  As I adapt and evolve, sometimes I wonder whether I’m losing—or finding?—my true self.  Is this maturity, or weakness?  The blessings are abundant, but different from what I expected.  Can I ever go back to my original plans?  Do I want to?   In which stream do I want to row?

The flux metaphor works for me as I flow through life’s seasons.  How does it resonate with you?