When Mothering Is Not Enough
I got together with a few friends, and while we were sitting around the table sipping tea, our conversation turned towards kids, screens, and the Internet, a popular topic. Someone told us about a doctor who advocated having no technology in the family home because she believed this was the best way to raise kids. She practised what she preached. We wondered: Should we do the same?
Maybe many people yearn for a simpler life, one without the Internet. Perhaps they think life was better before computers and smartphones. In those days, no one had to decide if they should give their child a phone or not. (There were probably other things parents agonised over.)
Conversations about the Internet can become heated, can’t they? They can often disintegrate into negativity. But you know what? I’m glad we have the Internet. It has allowed me to do so many things. It has enriched my life.
Perhaps I’m not allowed to say this. People might think I’m heartless, but I shall say it anyway. When I had only two children and lived a life centred entirely around their needs, I felt something was missing. I wanted to use my gifts and do something other than mothering. My kids were not enough.
Maybe people who aren’t able to have children think I’m ungrateful. Would children be their whole world if only they could be parents? Perhaps I don’t appreciate how blessed I am.
Without a doubt, I am grateful for my children. I endured a lot of sorrow while having my family. I lost seven babies due to miscarriage, and Thomas died as a baby. My heart broke so many times that I wondered if I’d survive. I appreciate every one of my kids. My heart overflows with love for them. I would go through all the pain again to have my children.
But I still need to be more than a mother. I need to be fully me, experiencing the joy and excitement of using my talents while pursuing my interests.
When I had two young children, I joined a breastfeeding association and became a counsellor. Later, I trained counsellors, and even later, I trained the trainers who trained counsellors. I loved going to conferences and feeling the buzz of excitement when meeting capable women with a shared vision. With a baby at my breast and a toddler at my knee, I joined in with discussions: How could we help mothers and babies?
When my first child reached school age, I resigned as a counsellor and turned my attention to education. I read, researched, and discussed. I went to more conferences, eager to learn. I discovered unschooling.
Then the Internet arrived, and I found more ways to use my skills, grow in knowledge and share what I’d discovered and my experiences with other parents: blogs, books, videos, podcasts, Zoom calls, social media, newsletters and communities. I tried them all. At the same time, I raised a large family, unschooling all my children except Thomas. He led me into writing about grief on my blog and in a book and accompanying other bereaved parents through their pain.
I watched a YouTube video conversation between two stay-at-home mothers not so long ago. One said she had tried being a working mother but felt torn between her job and her kids. She advised all mothers to dedicate themselves to their children and not work. There is nothing more important than bringing up our precious kids. I agree. But still, can’t mothers do something additional if they wish? Can’t they look for ways to use their talents?
Later, it occurred to me that these two women might be stay-at-home mothers, but they both had interests outside the home, like me. They had YouTube channels. They podcasted. They participated in interviews. They posted video conversations about such things as the benefits of being stay-at-home mothers. Even though full-time jobs didn’t fit well into their lives, they’d found ways to use their gifts, connect with others, be part of the bigger conversation, and even earn some money while still seeing to their kids' needs.
Years ago, a father told me his daughters didn’t need further education. They’d become mothers. What was the point of obtaining degrees, beginning careers, and then abandoning them when children arrived? I wondered: What if a daughter doesn’t get married? What if she can’t have children? What if she wants to use her talents to pursue something outside of mothering? What if God who gave her those gifts wants her to do that, too?
The Internet has undoubtedly expanded women’s choices, allowing many of us to combine motherhood with our interests. We don’t have to subdue our longings for learning, earning, growing, exploring, sharing our talents, and being part of the bigger world.
In some ways, we’re living in a fabulous time.
Of course, there are also downsides to the Internet. It’s not all good. Sometimes, it’s overwhelming and demanding. It wants to claim our attention, drawing us away from the most important people in our lives.
That’s why we need to be connected with our families, turning off our phones, putting our work aside, looking at each other instead of at screens, talking with one another, and loving and appreciating the greatest blessing God has given us.
Last night, I told my youngest daughter, “I couldn’t have focused all my time and energy on you and the other kids while you were growing up. That wouldn’t have been enough. Is that shocking?”
”It’s terrible!” she said.
“If you’d been my whole world, I’d feel lost now that you’re grown up. I need other things to do now that you no longer need me.”
“You do have something to do. You should look after me and do nothing else.”
”But you go to work. You’re not even here most of the time.”
”That doesn’t matter. You should be hovering at the door, waiting for me to arrive home. Nothing is more important than seeing to my needs.” She grins.
Of course, my youngest daughter and her older siblings don’t want me hovering close, looking anxiously over their shoulders at everything they do, advising, interfering and being too involved. They never did. They don’t want to be my whole world with the burden of fulfilling my dreams and keeping me happy. I’m sure they want me to be me and not just their mother.
They want me to enjoy using my talents to do something valuable of my own. And that’s what I also want for them.
”Do you know what I learnt from you, Mum?”
”What?”
“You taught me to pursue things I enjoy.” I gave my daughter permission not to do what might be described as safe and expected but to do the things that bring her alive and give her joy. Maybe I expanded her vision, showing her the possibilities.
”And what did you learn from Dad?”
”To persevere and work hard.”
Work hard at the things we enjoy.
Find creative ways to combine interests with mothering and not feel guilty because our kids can’t be our whole world.
Be glad we have the Internet and look for ways to use it.
Appreciate the blessing of kids.
Soak in the joy.
Love well.
And help each other to use personal talents, fulfil missions and become who God created us to be.
That sort of sums things up. What do you think?
Images
Sophie took these photos of me a while ago. I love photography. So does my daughter. Sometimes when we’re doing the things we enjoy, our children want to join in. Our passions become theirs. We end up sharing the joy. That’s another advantage of combining motherhood with our interests.So, what are your talents? What do you love doing? Have you found creative ways to combine motherhood with the things that give you joy? Or maybe bringing up your kids is enough for now? I’d love to hear your thoughts!