Thursday, February 8, 2007

Working Mom

I am a working mother now, two nights a week. I am actually writing this post from work. My job as an English tutor at a community college takes place in a room full of computers, and comes with a lot of down time. I usually tutor an average of three students for twenty minutes each over the course of my four hour shift. Needless to say, I've caught up on a lot of reading, and now that they have generously offered me access to a computer, perhaps my posts will become more frequent. I'm shooting for one a week! Ambitious - I know.

Speaking of reading, I've just started the book The Childhood Roots of Adult Happiness by Edward M. Hallowell, M.D. I'm getting a lot out of it so far.

The past six months have been difficult for me. LB turned three and morphed into this incredibly complex creature. We went through a period of intense, wild tantrums. She developed an alter-ego in the form of "kitty" - and kitty doesn't like to follow the rules. She doesn't like eat off of a plate, or the table for that matter. Kitty eats only the tiniest morsels of food she has placed on the dining table chair while she crouches on all fours on that same chair. We have a new rule - no kittys allowed at the table. Then, into the madness comes the second child, LH. I am still adjusting to having two kids. I am battling the constant frustration that comes from getting nothing done.

Then I started this book and it has me adjusting my outlook.
Hollowell writes: There is one point that many parenting books miss:children do more for us than we do for them. The most important advice in any parenting book ought to be this:Enjoy your children. Learn from your children, listen to what they say, play with them while you can, let them activate those parts of you that had already started to go dead before they were born, and let those parts of you energize your work, your friendships, your spiritual life, every part of your life that there is.

When I am able to get past the dirty dishes, the laundry, the unfinished home improvement projects, the unread books, etc.- what my children have given me is what really defines my experience as a mother.

When my kids are happy, when they emanate the purest kind of joy, the satisfaction and contentment I feel is primal and complete. The basic desire to feed, clothe, nurture and heal my children comes from a place in me I didn't know existed. As a person who leans toward the cerebral, motherhood was sort of off my radar. It took the presence of my children to, as Hollowell puts it, 'activate' the primal, instinctive, sensual side of my nature. And I believe that the other areas of my life, my relationships, my understanding of myself, have benefited from what my children have brought out in me. Instead of ruminating on what I'm not getting done, I need to become aware of the ways in which God is refining me and humbling me and blessing me through the gift of my children.

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