The Mother-In-Law Conundrum

Mother-in-laws. They are the butt of so many jokes and entire movies have been made around the mother-in-law / daughter-in-law relationship. Advice columns regularly post letters from both sides of the table; distraught daughter-in-laws who can't abide by their overbearing mother-in-laws and mother-in-laws who feel as though their daughter-in-laws are the devil's spawn, aren't good enough for their sons or are simply raising their grandchildren the wrong way. Many times these uneasy relationships start long before the wedding begging the question of whether any mother thinks a woman is good enough for her son. One really shouldn't stereotype the mother-in-law relationship since there are so many positive and healthy relationships between mothers and their son's spouses, but for some reason they do. Some mother-in-laws are wonderful, others benign while some are toxic at best and down right horrible at worst. It really runs the gamut.

I am a daughter-in-law. My relationship with my mother-in-law can at best be described as frosty. She has many qualities that make me uncomfortable or on some days down right angry but I will readily give her credit for raising an incredibly caring and sensitive son. At the same time I'm sure her list of my deficiencies as a daughter-in-law is equally extensive. But I was raised to respect my elders and for the first few years of knowing her I bit my tongue entirely when she confronted me with things that frankly I thought were none of her business. Had I been younger or even older at the time I would have likely confronted her comments directly and established boundaries that I was comfortable with from day one. But at the time, and because my relationship with her son was still in the fledgling stages, I said nothing. In hindsight this was a mistake because this only perpetuated my resentment of her since at heart, I am someone who speaks my mind. I finally started speaking my mind when I became a mother myself. To put it mildly, it didn't go well and my honestly continues to place a strain on our relationship. Some days I wonder if our relationship is one I can salvage but I have come to the sad conclusion that because we are both stubborn it is impossible for either one of us to budge or change our ways. Geographic distance makes it a bit easier to deal with this friction and because I love her son deeply I usually do my best to maintain peace when we are together. It isn't easy and sometimes it isn't possible and it pains me to put my husband in a situation where he would need to choose between the two of us. 

But I am also a mother of a son. Although he is barely out of diapers I often find myself thinking about his future and what it might hold. I envision his having a wife, children and a fulfilling life. I would like to think that I will embrace a future wife as she will me but I need to be honest. Will I ever think anyone is good enough for my little boy? How will I feel when I am not the number one female in his life? Will I be able to accept the fact that his focus --as it should--will turn to his new nuclear family rather than me? When I think of my own mother-in-law and our issues, I pause to wonder how I would feel if any future daughter-in-law feels the same way about me. First, it saddens me. Would I honestly be able to step back, even if it meant not being an active part of his life, in order for his relationship with his wife to be stronger? I try to be open minded and view our situation with detached indifference but it is really hard since the issue is so personal. I am just too close to it.

And this is a conversation I've had with several friends who are all mothers of boys. We all think we will be different from our own mother-in-laws. We say we will welcome our daughter-in-laws with open arms and respect their boundaries. We say that we will not critique their parenting skills nor will we comment on how they treat our sons or raise their families. At the moment we promise we won't lay on guilt trips over forgotten birthdays or holidays spent elsewhere since we will recognize that their focus is now on their immediate families. Now we say we will wait for invitations rather than force ourselves on our sons and their families. We promise to step back and go on with our lives if our sons choose to support and side with their spouses over us, the women who gave birth to them.

But will we? I hope so, but only time will tell.

October: National Domestic Violence Awareness Month

October is Domestic Violence Awareness month. Each year during this time, advocates, supporters, and survivors take to the streets and airwaves in an effort to bring awareness to this growing epidemic that strikes all too close to home. We live in a society where it is hard enough for women to come forward and admit that they are being hurt by their spouses and partners so it is just that much more difficult for men to do so.  While statistics show that most victims of domestic violence are women (three out of every four) that means men are victims too. Statistics regarding male violence are even harder to come by than those for women and they vary more as well.  But they are real and any number is one too many.  Regardless of how the numbers pan out, it is undeniable then men are also hurt by violence inside of the home and when one person is hurt, everyone is affected by it.

In college I was part of a campus wide effort that raised awareness about the effects of domestic violence.  Being that we had an all female student body, our focus was primarily on violence perpetrated against women by men but also female on female violence.  Domestic violence against men was never a topic we discussed or acknowledged.  After college I volunteered at a local shelter and was part of a hot line that answered calls from victims of domestic abuse.  I only received a few calls during my time (wo)manning the hot line but I did receive one call from a man.   Despite all of my training I remember my naive shock that a man was on the other end of the line (and not in the taunting or harassing way that angry men occasionally called the unlisted number).  This man simply needed someone to listen as he questioned whether the verbal and occasional physical assaults inflicted upon him by his wife were abuse.  In the end he answered his questions for himself but I remember my heart breaking as I listened to him talk, cry, and question.  (Emotions know no gender).  I still remember this call close to 20 years later and often wonder what became of him and his wife.   I never knew his name so I'll never know but I still wonder.  And unfortunately, he was definitely not an anomaly since men are victims of domestic violence as well.

Domestic violence can take many forms; it may be physical, verbal, or emotional and is often a combination of all three.  It is estimated that 835,000 men in the United States are physically assaulted by their intimate partners each year.  While physical abuse is apt to leave scars and outward telltale signs, verbal and emotional abuse can be even more damaging.  Insults, undue criticisms, and name calling may not leave physical wounds but their scars are present just the same.   While physical abuse is easier to identify--after all a physical strike is a physical strike-- emotional and verbal abuse is more difficult to identify. When is nagging or henpecking something more?  How does one identify where the line lies?  Like its physical sibling, emotional abuse wears people down and does lasting damage.  None of this is healthy behavior and all of it is detrimental to individuals, families, and communities.

Regardless of the gender of the perpetrator or subject of abuse, any violence inside of the home effects everyone who lives there.  Young or old, male or female, being subjected to or simply witnessing violence is detrimental to the household unit.  It all must stop now.  As such, I'm writing this blog entry to do my little part to raise awareness about this terrifying topic.  And you too, can do your part. If you suspect someone is a victim, reach out to them and offer your support.  If you can, attend a local awareness event in your community or volunteer your time and resources to an organization that supports survivors of domestic violence.  Every bit really does help.

Mothers And Sons

Holding Sidney for the first time at 6 days old

I'm a mother of a boy. Most days it is simultaneously exhausting yet wonderful, trying and bewildering. It is the toughest job I have ever had but one I wouldn't trade it for anything. We don't host tea parties or play with dolls in our house, rather the name of the games are soldier and rescue themed activities, watching Star Wars, and as of late, learning about bugs and snakes. And I'm learning right along with Sidney since none of these are activities or interests I had as a child. Airplanes, sirens zombies and sticks are currently what is really exciting as are books about the body functions, monster trucks and space ships. In a short time I've learned more about building with Legos, flying toy airplanes and properly racing matchboxes than I ever thought I would. I'm finally understanding how it is possible for the knees of jeans to always be worn through and as Sidney learns to differentiate between boys and girls am being told that girls are yucky. (But according to Sidney, mommy is an exception since I'm not a girl, I'm just mommy). Yes, this is apparently what life with a son is like. It is not a life I ever imagined but it is pretty darn good.

Attending his first Mount Holyoke College
reunion at six months

But what I am really learning through all of this is that boys and their mothers truly have a special bond that is like no other relationship. I see it in my own adult husband and his mother and I am increasingly seeing it between my own son and myself. Mothers are the first women in their sons lives and for many men, hold that place of honor for life. Other females may come and go but as mothers, we remain the one constant. We are the care givers; the first ones they turn to when they are hurt or sad, when they need nourishment or clean socks. I'm sure no mother thinks a woman is good enough for her son and as much as I'd like to think I'll feel differently, I'm sure I will be just as skeptical about any girl Sidney chooses to bring home. That just seems to be the way it is. And ultimately, we are also the ones who help shape their vision of what women are like. (Now tell me that isn't a big responsibility to shoulder).   

This summer has marked a turning point in my relationship with my son. For the first time I am not working and am his true primary caregiver, in many cases spending every waking moment with him each day. I know many mothers fulfill this role from day one but for me, after all this time, I am finally the person who wakes him every morning and with Glenn back in Belgium, the one who puts him to bed each evening. This means I am spending a lot of time with Sidney and I am realizing what a truly neat, if not trying at times, kid he really is. The boy has more energy than I thought was humanly possible but he also has a quick wit and a photographic memory for places he has been and things he has heard. I dare say that this summer he is teaching me just as much as I am teaching him.

As much as I hate to admit it, when the three of us are together as a family, we tend to fall into traditional male and female roles. Sidney looks to Glenn to do the rough and tumble things or when he needs broken toys to be fixed and asks me to help him when he is hurt, needs food or wants to do arts and crafts. But with Glenn not here, out of necessity he's asking me to play with him on the playground, kick around the soccer ball and fly toy airplanes with him. (Of course Glenn's absence also means I'm taking Sidney into women's rooms with me which is causing him to ask all sorts of questions about the "candy machines" on the walls). Earlier this week we were at the playground and Sidney wanted to slide down a fireman's pole but was afraid to. He said he wished that his daddy was there to show him how to do it. I told him that I could show him and after a brief (but crushing for me) look of skepticism, he allowed me to demonstrate. He looked at me in amazement that I had not only climbed to the top of the playground equipment but then proceeded to slide down the pole then copied my actions until he too was twisting and sliding down the pole with ease.  The same thing happened at the beach the next afternoon. Sidney wanted to haul a bucket of rocks out to the edge of the water and muttered something about needing daddy to help him. This time mommy came to his rescue and not only filled and carried his bucket and shared in the rock throwing but also showed him how to dig under the seaweed to find the barnacles and starfish underneath. At bedtime that night Sidney whispered a sleepy thank you to me for being so much fun. Upon hearing the words my heart melted just a little more (and made me realize that he hadn't considered me to be the fun parent). And those were just two days; each day we are discovering new things together and I think he is looking at me in a new light.

And so I'm calling this the summer of mother-son bonding. We've spent more time together than we ever have before and Sidney has seen a side of his mother that he never knew existed. He's learned that not only can mommy cook and heal his boo-boos but that I can also throw rocks, slide down playground equipment and fix a thing or two. (I'm still not proficient at flying toy airplanes but I am trying). I'm so unbelievably grateful that we have had this opportunity to spend time together in a new way. Sure I'm exhausted but Sidney and I have strengthened our bond and that is worth every energy sapping waking moment. So here's to an action packed final weeks of summer and a life time of strengthening our mother-son bond.

A recent visit to one of my favorite childhood places

Ignorance Is Bliss...

...and once it is lost, there is no going back. I remember the first time a friend and co-worker said this to me. At the time her comment left me wondering exactly what she meant. After all, I prided myself in being aware of both my surroundings and the larger world around me. I felt that knowledge was power. When I asked her what she meant, she explained that sometimes it is simply possible to know too much about something--whether it be a person, a place, or a situation-- and knowing so much information could cloud how you viewed everyone and everything else around you. This conversation got me thinking then and now, months later, I am still thinking about it because she was so right in her statement.

The context of our conversation was our jobs but in reality the idea can apply to every aspect of our lives, both on the macro and micro levels. Yes, I still believe that it is important to be aware and well informed about the world around us but there is a point when too much information or knowledge is just that, too much. But I'm talking events and their corresponding details that are of local, national, or international importance--contentious elections, impending war, large scale tragedies. These are just a few examples of events that as world citizens we should be aware of. On the other end of the spectrum, extra-maritial affairs by politicians, bad behavior perpetrated by celebrities, and other sensational headlines are information that rarely adds anything of value to our lives. So do we need to know about these events? Probably not.

But let's follow this train of thought to a personal level. In the office do we need to know the nitty-gritty details of our co-workers' personal lives? Unless it directly impacts their work and the operations of the office, I would argue that we don't. After all someone might be a great employee but if I know about questionable actions in their personal life I am apt to look at them differently. So once you know something-whether it be good or bad- you can't erase that knowledge.

There is something wonderful about not knowing the ugly details of life and here in Belgium I'm trying hard to take this tactic. I'm doing my best to stay out of the office, playground, and school politics. If you need a volunteer just ask and I'll do what I can but I'm not going to get overly involved in a project or activity until I am sure that it is the right fit for me. Because as experience has shown me, once you venture down that rabbit hole it is very hard to pull yourself back out. And as I am quickly learning, it is so much more enjoyable to attend an event, whether it be a bazaar, lecture, or simply a dinner, where I am unaware of the details that went into pulling it together. Since I've been on the other side for too long I am appreciative of the work and effort and perhaps drama and personal struggles that went into bringing the event to fruition. Been there, done that and I will profusely thank others for their efforts but for the time being I simply don't want to take that burden on as my own. Perhaps this is a bit selfish but for the time being, I'm going to live in my bubble of bliss.

Mother's Day Musings

Three generations of mothers

Mom, Mamma, Mommy, Mother, or hundreds of other renditions; regardless of the actual title the understanding is the same.  The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines mother as a female parent and also as woman in authority.  A mother is the person who perhaps gave birth to you (or maybe not), who raised you (or maybe not), and who loves/loved and cares/cared for you (or maybe not).  There are women who have wanted to be mothers since they were little girls and there are mothers who only entered into motherhood reluctantly.  There are women who long to be mothers and others who would be better off never bearing that title.  There are women, who by choice or circumstance, will never become mothers.  There are good mothers, bad mothers, and mothers who fall somewhere in between.  In reality mothers come in all shapes, sizes, and incarnations.

And today is (American) Mother's Day.  (Other countries celebrate a similar holiday on different days throughout the spring).  Held annually on the second Sunday of May, Mother's Day celebrates mothers and motherhood.  Today my Facebook wall is filled with pictures of mothers and warm greetings to mothers all around the world.  Unfortunately, however, this day that was once set aside to recognize mothers has become the ultimate of Hallmark holidays.  Entire advertisement campaigns for everything from jewelry and florists to clothing and yes greeting cards, have been designed around buying things for mom.  Restaurants market their special Sunday brunches and I've even seen grocery stores advertising "easy meals" that presumably children and husbands can put together for mom.  In our mass consumerism society the message is that if you aren't spending copious amounts of money lauding your mother, there must be something wrong with you.  It is virtually impossible to ignore today and yes, there are people who would like to do just that.

In the years before Sidney was born I became painfully aware of how hard it is to see motherhood so openly celebrated yet to not be a part of the much yearned for "club."  I shared this feeling of dread with several friends in similar situations.  I knew of others who were mothers in their own right but for a variety of reasons didn't have loving relationships with their own mothers and thus, didn't feel the need or desire to celebrate mom.  I had friends whose sole desire for Mother's Day was a true day off and a little peace and quiet.  And still yet there were my friends whose dearly loved mothers were no longer with them.  All of this can temper an otherwise joyous day with dread and sadness.  I try to keep all of this in mind on days like today.

I am now a mother myself and love my son dearly.  Since his birth I've become closer to my own mother and I have a new, broader perspective on the choices, struggles, and sacrifices she made to raise her three children.  And being a mother definitely isn't easy.  I totally agree with those who say it is the toughest job they will ever have.  And because of this, I guess today is "our" day.  However, we are mothers 365 days a year.  Rather than have a single day to acknowledge our efforts, we should be grateful and say thank you at every opportunity we have to all of the women in our lives.  Remember, a part of the Merriam-Webster definition includes women who are in authority. Think about this broadly and that can include pretty much everyone from biological relatives to friends, mentors and anyone else who has helped shape us into the people, and perhaps mothers, we are today. So we don't have to wait for a single day; rather be kind, respectful and thankful year around.  

Thank you to all of the women in my life who have helped make me the person I am today.

And the little boy who made me a mother