It's just what I think

"I asked my mom if I was gifted, and she said they certainly wouldn't have paid for me..."



I've been thinking a lot this week, for reasons that I'm sure are implicitly obvious, about what it means to be a mother. Or, I guess, a parent, in the broader sense. But for all the theories and fuss about equality and co-parenting and all of that, there's something different about being a mother and being a father. It goes beyond, I think, what still are staunchly defined gender roles in our society. I think it's something biological. And it's not that being a dad is any less important, or any less of a biological drive; it's just different.

I do think it's important that children have strong parental figures in both roles. As one of my favorite LMHCs once said, "You learn your role as a woman from your mother; you learn your worth as a woman from your father." I think that's really true. And I think that you learn so many other lessons in kind - how to treat members of the opposite gender, what it means to be someone of your own gender, what your role in society is, what your worth is as a person, a man or woman, an individual, a member of society. I also think you get so much from watching your parents (or surrogate parents) interact.


I was sitting with one of my patients this week, an adolescent who has a horrible father and a stepfather who's just as bad, and I asked him, "what does it mean to be a man?" He had a hard time answering me, and gave me a lot of negative answers - i.e., "It means not treating women badly," "it means not abandoning your family." I praised his insight as far as noticing what seemed wrong that was going on around him. I also had a feeling that he probably couldn't give me a good answer for the questions, "What does it mean to treat a woman well?" or "what are the ways a woman shows you her worth?" because that had never been modeled to him, either. I don't know that I have the answers to those questions myself, at least not in the superlative sense (actually, I totally stumped myself with the last one, but that's my own neurosis). Nevertheless. This kid's at such a disadvantage at the stage he's at now, trying to figure out how to be an adult, what that is. God help him when he tries to become a meaningful parent. It's a rocky, uphill transition regardless, but this kid has a lot holding him back.

Our parents always do. That's part of being what we are; they prepare us the best they can with the tools they have, but it's up to the next generation to come up with a better set of tools. Whether that means updating and adapting for the changing times, or turning maladaptive skills into beneficial ones, or dumping out the toolbox and starting over, it's the way of progress and of the progression of humanity.


It's an endless effort and a huge responsibility to be a parent. No, to be a good parent. There are so many jobs you take on. At the most basic level, you have to keep them nourished, clothed, sheltered. You have to keep them safe, which if you ask me, is both the most taxing and the most important job. And then, you have to nurture and encourage them. Contain them but give them room to grow. You have set limits, hold absolutely steadfast to those, and know when to break them. You have to know, when presented with two absolutely essential needs that have to be met, which one trumps the other. You have to pass on what's important but keep your own stuff in check. You walk a delicate balance.

The hardest thing, I think, is knowing you have to let them screw up sometimes, even when you see them heading straight for the cliff. Because it's important for all of us to fail miserably sometimes. You have to be willing to bite your tongue, and then offer nothing but a hand and a hug when they're sitting in the middle of a royal mess. Because they have to learn how to fix it.

And you know what? You're going to screw up, too. You have to know how to do that with acceptance, humility, and grace.

Kids learn so much through modeling. It's not the latest theory of parenting or the hippest new toy or the most traditional nuclear family arrangement that makes a difference for a kid - it's you showing them what kind of person to be. We joke about the inevitability of turning into our mothers, or opening our mouths and hearing our fathers' words come out, but it's the honest truth.

I do think it's different to be a mother. I've been thinking a lot about my crazy pregnant patient's baby, what biological drive sent me over to the Women's Hospital to hold her, to physically touch her. I think it stems from the fact that we're set up to carry those little lives for their first nine months. Which isn't to say you have to birth a child from your own womb to be a good mother, or that every woman who delivers a child will parent it well (that one gets the big old duh). But I think it's relevant that we're chemically set up to do that. I think it's relevant that, evolutionarily, we've got better sensory perception and processing than men do. That we multi-task better. That the sound of a crying baby will make a nursing woman let down. Chemically, neurologically, hormonally, biologically, we have a different set of parenting skills.

Which, again, isn't to say you have to be a woman to be the nurturing parent (double kudos to the stay at home dad for defying gender conventions both socially and parentally). And it certainly isn't to say you can only parent your biological children well. And while I'd prefer she didn't take the presidency, I have to give Hilary her due for the fact that it does, indeed, take a village to raise a child. Aunts, grandparents, siblings, good friends - have all been some of the best "parents" I know. And it never hurts to have multiple people to learn from, particularly if your primary parents model well taking the positive from every person you encounter.

Mothering is a tough job. And with much respect intended to all those out their raising their own kids, no one has it harder, I think, than the foster parents. Again, I correct that to, the good foster parents. Because there are so damn many who aren't. And why anyone would take on that job if they didn't intend to be damn good at it is beyond me. Because that must be the most difficult thing going. You get these kids who already come to you damaged in one way or another. They already have attachment issues. And you welcome them in, and you have to attach to them and love them and encourage and nurture them just like any other parent, to deal with their problems and genetic setups and poor coping, knowing that all you may have with them is a brief moment before they get taken from you and whisked to someplace else. It's an awesome prospect and it deserves equally awesome respect.

Ultimately, I think being a mother isn't for everyone, at least not in the "direct," having actual offspring of their own, sense. Some people excel at indirect parenting (i.e., being a positive influence on others' kids or taking a strong surrogate role when the main parental figure is lacking), but for some it just isn't in the cards at all. And that's okay. The key is knowing it, I think, before you actually have kids.

What it boils down to, for me, is giving it your best effort and working in good faith for the welfare of your kids. To listening to them and to your own instincts. To understanding that it won't always be perfect. To remembering that the best thing you can do for your children's development into solid adults is to show them how to be one. Whether they're actually "your" children or not.

And knowing that one day, they'll get it.



(PS - thanks, Jenn!)