Through a discussion board on Ravelry, I found this article on work. It made me think a lot, especially on the things I spend my time on.
As much as I love being a mother, it's so hard to gauge how you're doing. You don't get progress reports or performance reviews. You don't get peer reviews, either, because everyone is terrified of finding out what everyone else will think. Every minor setback makes you question your entire operation. Even outward signs of growth mask the quality of the real product. It's a work that spans a lifetime, but only a small portion is actually under your control.
It's no wonder I retreat into my crafts--perhaps too much. No matter how frustrating it is to rip out five rows of cables, I can reknit it and move on in an afternoon. No matter how trying to the patience a single row comprised of a thousand stitches of sewing-thread-thin yarn in a complex lace pattern can be, I can see the pattern forming and find pleasure with each repeat added. No matter how fiddly the pleats on the front of my new purse are, I know that I can rip out the basting and do it again. And if it just won't cooperate, even after seven or eight honest tries, I have no guilt in chucking the whole thing and starting anew with a different fabric or pattern. Ink stains on my hands become a badge of honor as I look with pride at the dozen cards or gift tags before me. What was once nothing more than a scrap of fabric and a pile if thread morphs into a Christmas stocking embroidered with beautifully shaded pine trees or angel wings. There is real, tangible progress in these things. I can measure my life by gifts given, dresses worn out through constant wearing, or replacing my favorite pair of lacy knee-high stockings one more time.
This is not to say that I can replace my job with my hobbies. I try to bring them together as much as possible, letting my kids pick the project and colors for their friends' younger siblings' gifts and showing them how it is made and the progress that's made, but that doesn't resolve my need to find progress in my everyday endeavors. True, my daughter was just starting to sound out words, six months ago, and can now read any Dr. Seuss book you set her all by herself, but that's hard to remember when I'm changing my tenth diaper of the day and struggling to decide what dinner will be.
So, as my personal request to everyone who knows a parent, let them know what they're doing right. Tell them how sweetly their child said "thank you" to you. Tell them how their child helped clean up someone else's mess without complaint. Tell them about the progress their child--and therefore they--have made. Trust me, they're desperate to know.
I Bag To Differ
1 hour ago
3 comments:
Thank you for this post, Lisa. It actually made me cry, though I'm not entirely sure I could tell you why. I've been having such a hard time being a mom lately. I feel like I'm not doing enough at the same time I feel overburdened. I worry that every thing I'm doing (or not doing) is screwing up my kids. It's hard to see the good that mothers do in the short term, especially when in the midst of breaking up sibling fights or fixing something broken by a bored or curious child. It just doesn't seem fair sometimes that mothers are plagued by so much guilt and worry. I do my best, but too often I worry that my best isn't good enough. You're right--they're desperate to know.
And, while I don't see you with your kids, from what I can tell, you're a wonderful mother!
Very well said Lisa!!! It is so important for me to feel like what i am doing *means* something, and in the midst of what we do on a daily basis, and the failures that I see before me constantly, it is hard to see the great progress as well!! Thank you for the uplifiting post and hopefully we can all look outside ourselves and remember for every minute that we want to throw in the towel or cry, that there are 100's of other mothers feeling the same way..and taking the time to point out where they are going right will probably lift our own spirits as well!
I totally understand where you're coming from. It seems like every morning I wake up desperate to do something unusual, that isn't mundane. Its hard when you know those daily routine things are needed & important, but feel like endless suffering.
I think a child's life could be compared to weaving a tapestry (or some other craft) but the weaving goes much slower & takes years before you can look back & see the pattern. And like most of the crafts I do, there's probably a mistake or two (or more) in there somewhere, but you can look at that and say, I'm okay with that, its still looks great.
Its not easy to be a mom. I'm reminded of that on a daily basis. I just think we all do the best we can & Heavenly Father will help us with the rest.
Thanks for the thought provoking post, Lisa! Sorry I wrote such a long comment...
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