On Barney, SMUMs and getting real...

There was an article by Rebecca Eckler in this weekend's Globe and Mail ("Motherhood is Boring") featuring Helen Kirwan-Taylor's confession (which has already run in newspapers in the US and UK) "Sorry, but my children bore me to death."

Wow. That's a loaded statement...and I'm sure it was intended as such.
As I read on through all the moaning - about how trips to the playground bore SMUMs (smart, middle-class, uninvolved mothers) to death, how they envy their childless friends' ability to run off at a moments notice, how they just can't bear to watch another episode of Barney, I wondered, why don't they do something about it (rather than bitching ad nauseum.) ?

Sure, this kind of 'confession' catches the eye and even seems catagorically snarky - but truly, are these young moms looking for a solution or just looking for attention to be heaped upon them?

In our house it's about balance, it's about creativity and passion, and messiness, and even a bit of game theory thrown in for good measure. I didn't walk into motherhood thinking I had to give over my everything (mind, body and soul) to my kids. I'm not sure why these women think that being a mom today implies an either/or situation - either you're a full-time mum with a mind only for goo-goo and no personal interests, or you're a nanny-dependent, borderlilne alkie who would rather skip off to happy hour with girlfriends than come home to the kids. When it's put to women in those terms, then "ta-da", yet another girl-on-girl catfight is born where women battle and snark over good mom vs. bad mom.

It's enough to make me say, "What the?" (As my five-year-old son likes to exclaim.) Perhaps I let him watch too many episodes of The Simpsons so I can get some writing done - am I a bad mother? Oh, but wait, the other day, I spent a large chunk of the day at the beach with the boy, his twelve-year-old brother, and a ten-year-old girl (her mom is a friend and was spending the day in the city.) Does that make me a boring house-mommie with nothing to do but make pb&honey sandwiches and roast marshmallows at the seashore?

While we were there, we spent time together, and we spent time apart (I brought a book to read). And, I'll admit it, I had fun. Yeah, there was a moment when I argued with the younger one over his wanting to take home a huge pile of sticks he had collected, but on the whole, it was good.

That's how most things are in my life - whether I'm out with my husband, or my girlfriends (which I have no qualms about making time for) or I'm in snuggled up on the couch with the boys and a bowl of popcorn watching one of our favourite Miyazaki films (no Barney in my house), or I'm alone in my studio, in the throes of writing my next novel - I'm where I want to be, I'm having a good time, and on the whole, it's good. Sure, there will be moments...but, hey, I've held the puke bowl for my college roomate as well as my kid...and to tell the truth, the college roomate was the more difficult of the two - she fluctuated between sobbing over her ex boyfriend and yelling at me to pull back her hair so it wouldn't get messed up.

I have a feeling the SMUMs wouldn't want me, and the SCAM's (Smart, Child-Centered  Active Moms) wouldn't claim me either...that's OK. I've never been much of a joiner. Maybe I'll have to come up with a 'club' of my own...just so I can get the t-shirt. Any suggestions?

Ami McKay is (in no particular order) a lover, a writer, a mom, a kick-ass maker of french toast, a jazz singer, a ranter, a raver, and a haphazzard artist. Her first novel The Birth House is a tribute to all the women who had the courage to "rant-on" before her, to mothers without names, and to the history of the vibrator. Check out her site: http://www.thebirthhouse.com