motherhood seems to come with inherent questions to be faced daily, whether we realize we are facing them are not:

are we to measure the truth of what we read against the truth of our own experience, or are we to measure everything we experience against the truth of what we read? motherhood is not without its sacred texts or its powerful experiential learning. how can we weave these things together into an authentic version of motherhood, or moreover, an authentic way of being human?

on most days, for me, experience trumps book knowledge. i tend to draw much of my parenting tendencies from my own experience of being a child. there are many things about how i was raised that i want to duplicate for my children.  i expressed one of these ideals in my post about neighbors, in which i called to mind a time when “there were no scheduled play dates or activities. our parents simply let us loose to waltz through each other’s back doors and live out our days covered in sweat, mosquito bites, and melted popsicle juice.”

but a comment on this post reminded me that we cannot simply transplant the parenting habits of decades past into our lives without having wrestle with our fair share of questions. lane writes:

“I am challenged to find a balance between encouraging the friendships and life lessons of playing outside and the very real dangers that lurk in the spaces that we cannot supervise. How old to ride a bike on the street without a parent? How old to walk four houses down alone to play? How reliable is the adorable dog playing in the yard across the street? How well should you know a family (neighbor, classmate, whatever) before your child has unrestricted access to their house?

A Lebanese coworker of mine commented how Americans are the most generous nation of people to respond in a crisis, but as individuals, we keep our doors locked tight (figuratively and literally!). We DON’T typically know our neighbors, and we often don’t bother to try. I wonder how we can manage to be both at once?”

these are excellent questions, lane, and ones that move me out of the state of idealistic nostalgia and into a more real and complicated place. in fact, this is the place to which i keep returning, whether i want to or not. this place seems to be on the way to everywhere else i want to go. it’s a place of CONSTRUCTION.

what's a blog post w/out a cheesy stock photo?

i started this blog because i perceived that there is a gap between our cultural models of motherhood and the kind of mother i aspire to be. after looking high and low for models, mentors, and reading material to fill this gap, i realized that no ready-made solution exists. i will have to build one to suit me. we all will. so much of a mother’s job is construction.

and here, in the gap between the outdoor play of past and present and in response to all the questions about bicycle boundaries, strangers, and yard dogs, no ready-made solution exists. again, i will have to build one to suit me. we all will. so much of a mother’s job is construction.

i admit that i would often rather settle for a ready-made model and avoid the messy work and on-the-job training involved in building something new. but just knowing that there are other women out there donning their hard hats, scaling towers of literature, and descending into their own histories, actually makes this motherhood experiment fun. i’m so grateful for the company of so many who are committed to crafting something that is good and real.

motherhood, like every enduring institution, has its catch phrases. currently, most of these phrases seem to pertain to the enterprise of juggling. real life conversations among moms rarely occur without references to “juggling it all,” “keeping all the balls in the air,” “dropping the ball, ” and my personal favorite,”running off and joining the circus.” wouldn’t it be fun to mingle with a group of women and take a tasty sip of your beverage every time someone described her life as the ongoing exercise of hurling people, commitments, expectations, and roles into the ever-loving sky?

but i must concede that the juggling metaphor is a good one. it encapsulates so much about motherhood: the overcommitment, the multi-tasking, the sense that part of it is an act (and one crazy enough to be circus-worthy), and the inherent and inevitable moments of failure.

here are two women’s descriptions of juggling. the first is by ayelet waldman, author of bad mother and harvard law classmate of barack obama:

“i know that someday my daughters will chart their own courses, they’ll make their own mistakes. they in their turn will have to figure out how to keep all those balls in the air, how to maneuver despite inevitable frustration and failure. but just as i burden my daughters with my expectations, i also try to remind them that jugglers invariably drop balls, and no matter the persistent criticism of the Bad Mother police, balls do bounce. whey they fall, all you need to do is pick them up and throw them back up on the air” (41).

and the second meditation on juggling comes to us with a dose of humor by way of the fabulous tina fey, in last night’s saturday night live monologue.

now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m headed off to join the circus.

[source for this post can be found on the bibliography page, located on the sidebar to your right. the image in this post is from http://www.horizonstructures.com/]