“I thought "your" life was your family when you had one.
Being a mother is one of life's biggest blessings but we miss it so often
because our culture makes us think that we need all these other things to make
us "who we REALLY are", or were meant to be; a job, a social life,
etc, etc. These things aren't bad but they make us discontent with our
situation that so many would give up all these other things to have. I wish
more moms would find satisfaction in the mundane work that's necessary to raise
up children. It's the little things in life that seem so insignificant that
really count.”
Ashley, I get what you’re
saying. Believe me: I appreciate my status as a mom. I tried for more than 3
years to conceive James. I’ve been pregnant 6 times and I have 3 live children.
I love, appreciate and cherish them.
However, I don’t cherish
the mundane. Not that I dream of being one of those creepy Mrs Americas
(because I live in South Africa, but also, just a little because entering
pageants when you’re a mom – or at all - is, you know, creepy and twisted). Not
because I want to be famous and known as one of those socialite-types. No, not
for any of those reasons, but because…. wait for it, because this is profound:
I don’t cherish the mundane.
Just in case we’re not
clear, here it is again: I don’t enjoy cooking. I don’t enjoy tidying. I hate
routine. My favourite reading matter isn’t school notices. My idea of the ideal
Friday night outing isn’t a school Bingo evening. The “life” I was whining
about in my “Missing” post isn’t a fantastic career, or a dazzling social life.
No, what I feel I’m missing out on now that I’m busy with the mundane all the
time is a rich intellectual life. The chance now and then to read a good book,
to be creative, to write and think about something other than how to palm off
raffle tickets and what kind of spread to slap on today’s sandwich.
In case I still haven’t
been clear enough: I don’t hate my children. I hate the mundane. I know it’s
the little things that count. Like the 10 minutes I spend in bed with them in
the morning. Or the time Hannah and I spent last night at a belly-dancing
lesson. Or laughing at one of James’s not-very-funny jokes. It’s the little
things like that that I cherish. Not the mundane.
