Having Enough (In a Have-It-All World)

For many of us “educated folks,” much value is put on whether we are “using our brains” in our day-to-day lives. There’s an idea (what I believe to be a fallacy) that stay-home-parenting doesn’t use one’s brain.

Try answering the question, “Mommy, why do birds eat worms?”

Try coming up with a creative way to coax a wiley two-year-old to get into the bathtub.

Try to notice your own behavior as you react to inane situations like beets smeared all over the table, and then behave as a person you’d want to emulate.

Yes, of course, parenting little ones can have those days of finger-painting for more hours than your patience might enjoy easily, and conversations with too many one-syllable words (like “no!”). But, I think the question of whether we “use our brains” as stay-at-home parents is, as usual, one of perspective.

We can see all of this mommy/daddy work as vapid and useless to the higher-learned society. Or we can see this work as challenging, rewarding, and incredibly meaningful as we shape the next generation’s leaders (we can only hope). We can see how we must stretch our minds and our spirits to parent consciously, to challenge ourselves and our kids.

I realize that the “using our brains” panic is much more loaded than this, and is entwined with all kinds of social structures that make it very hard for parents to have well-paid, professional, part-time positions that would allow for some official “brain work” during the intense years of parenting, as so many people want (documented brilliantly by Miriam Peskowitz in The Truth Behind the Mommy Wars — yes, this is one of my favorite books!). I realize that this is often a veiled complaint about our lack of options and support for real career/family balance, even for those of us in the privileged sectors of society.

But, we can still fight for more options, and see these societal problems, and still, at the same time, appreciate the work we do as full-time parents as just as brainy as our outside jobs — just a different kind of brainy.

By the way, my answer was, “Because they’re warm and squirmy and fun for birds, and they fit in their little throats.” (I’m still trying to think of a better one.)

Happy Mother’s Day, a little late (I was busy enjoying yesterday).

When I dropped my entire spice rack on the ceramic-tile kitchen floor this morning, shattering glass and spewing cinnamon and basil everywhere, my two-year-old, after a look of startled concern, said, “Ah, there it goes, Mommy?”

“Yes, Honey,” I responded, after recovering for a moment myself. “Ah, there it goes.”

We like to use this phrase in our house when things break or end.  Everything goes at some point.  Accepting it sure makes life easier.

It’s funny, though, that my first response was much more “oh no!” until I realized my daughter was looking to me to know how to react herself.  We went through the knee-jerk negative reaction at first (because I did) and then got to “ah, there it goes” fairly quickly, but I think she was definitely there before me — repeating what we’ve told her and young enough to be open to actually reacting in different ways to spilled spices.  Next step for me is un-learning the knee-jerk,  skipping the “oh no,” I guess.

Tired tonight.  Crazy day.  And, ah, there it goes.

Thanks to Sharon for sending me this Salon.com article, which harkens back to the classic “Having Enough” discussion of how we define success and “enough” in an overachiever, uber-consumer culture.

The article is a Q&A with author Pamela Paul, as Salon describes:

“As the market for infant products grows ever more absurd, author Pamela Paul takes on $800 strollers, Gymboree and the bamboozle that is Baby Einstein.”

You get the idea. Challenging the “need” for all this crazy stuff (more, more, more) for our kids. Challenging the marketing machines and their “research” on what kids need. Challenging the values. Challenging the producers and consumers, and the choices we make.

Right on.

I hear so many moms use the phrase “getting it over with” to talk about having children close together.

I get it, really I do, on the practical levels. The sleep deprivation and diapers, the lack of “freedom” — you have your kids close together and all that is out of the way in a few short years, rather than dragged out over a decade or so (depending on how many kids and how far apart you’re talking about). I also get the financial piece; the sooner the kids are school-age the easier for parents to work/work more and bring home the proverbial bacon.

And, yet, I still always balk at this statement, because on a deeper level, I’ve learned that I don’t want to make any major choices in my life to “get it over with.” It sets off my inner alarm bells of an attitude that is not living in the present, but living for some “someday” when things will supposedly be easier, better, etc. I’ve learned that “someday” living is a trap, rarely true and at the very least a cheap ticket to a life passed by without really experiencing it.

Now, I am not (not, not, not!!) saying that I think there is any one right age difference between siblings. There is clearly not, and different spans work better for different families for unlimited reasons and circumstances. It’s not the spacing I am questioning, just this particular reasoning.

I know diapers and sleep deprivation aren’t fun, but so much of parenting babies and toddlers is fun. And conscious presence and quality time spent together is a precious lifelong gift, to our kids and to us. Of course I realize the people who say they want to “get it over with” aren’t necessarily saying they aren’t taking the time to enjoy parenting at this stage, or that this is their only reason for their choice, but I also think it is worth stopping and pondering why so many moms are saying it.

I guess I just wonder if the “get it over with” logic is somehow connected to the culture of success, busyness, “never enough”-ness that I launched this blog to dive more deeply into. Is this reasoning about rushing through a stage of life that I hear so many parents of teenagers or adult children wax wistfully about how fast it went and how they wish they’d stopped and enjoyed it more? Is it about lacking an ability to slow down and just “be”? Is it fear of, what, stopping, falling behind, losing out, losing energy?

I’m not sure, but I do know the “get it over with” phrase is so over-used in my mommy circles that there is something to this. And it is usually said with a commiserating grimace, as if we know we are all stretched to our limits and surely want to get these years over with, too. Maybe there are more tangible social issues behind this pervasive logic — such as, lack of support in this culture for mothers/parents in so many forms (from lack of maternity/paternity leave to lack of quality part-time jobs and child care). Of course there are.

When I’m less sleep-deprived, I’m going to think about this more (haha). For now, I’m just putting this thought I’ve had for some time now on paper/screen. (Has anyone else written about this yet?? Hmmmm.)

So, what do you think? Have you heard the phrase used in this context? Have you used it yourself? Do you think there is a connection to our over-drive culture?

I admit it, I’ve been watching Celebrity Apprentice, on and off at least.

It’s not what you think. I’m really not a fan of Donald Trump. In fact, quite the opposite. However, one of the contestants on this show — celebrities playing to win big bucks for their favorite charity — is country singer Trace Adkins, who is playing for the Food Allergy and Anaphylaxis Network (FAAN).

Adkins, like us, has a daughter with life-threatening food allergies. Like us, he has had the experience of seeing his little girl go into anaphylactic shock, and like us his lifestyle has been changed by this terrifying result and risk from the previously ordinary activity of eating. (The link above to the show is actually to a clip of Adkins talking about his daughter and food allergies.)

Returning today from a week’s trip across the country to visit my family, we are acutely in tune with this fact of our daughter’s life and ours. We pre-board the planes so my husband can clean out every nook and cranny of the seats before we sit her down (we have found peanuts, one of her severe allergies, lodged between the seats on every flight we’ve taken her on). We have to cook and bring food to every house we visit (her other allergens — tree nuts, sesame seeds, and dairy — are hidden in so many foods) and ask that no one serve fish in her presence (the allergen that forced us to call 911 this fall after she ate just a few bites and went into full-blown anaphylactic shock).

Now, we are nothing but grateful for our daughter, that she survived the anaphylaxis and we have strategies to keep her safe. We know her, and our, fate could be much worse with any number of conditions, circumstances, etc. And we know this is just one part of her many wonderful facets. But, honestly, it’s stressful to deal with food, healthy, normal food, being a potentially lethal substance for your child. It’s everywhere, every social event focuses on it, every book and activity, everything almost, has something to do with eating.

And it is so disturbing to ponder why so many more kids are getting these kind of reactions from food — what has happened with our food supply, our immune systems, our environment? It’s a big issue in our family, and our daughter’s life literally depends on us, and doctors, finding answers to very tough questions.

So, we watch Celebrity Apprentice and root for Trace Adkins, for the big money to go to FAAN. We tear up when he does as he talks about how terrifying it was to see his daughter go into shock, and he will do anything to help her and kids (and adults) like her dealing with this serious condition (that many folks don’t understand is this serious for some people — as Trace says, this is not just allergies that itch, but allergies that can kill you).

We roll our eyes at the egos and consumer spin of the show. But we watch. For us, sometimes it’s just OK to pick our battles. And the battle to find a cure for anaphylactic food allergies is one we will fight, even if ole Trump is involved.

If you’re interested, the finale, with Adkins as one of the two celebrity finalists, is this Thursday night on NBC. His daughter will appear, and viewers will have a chance to donate to FAAN or the other finalist’s charity as well.

This isn’t something I write about too often, but it certainly is something that makes “Having Enough” such a powerful concept in my life. I’m so grateful for FAAN, and for the people who have helped us with our daughter’s condition. And we are literally thankful every day just to eat the simplest of foods and be healthy and OK and together.

(All right, yes, if you watch, you will have to stomach a zillion ads, melodrama, and Omorosa — but, hey, Marilu Henner is on there, too; she’s a peach!)

There’s a good interview with Laura Dern in Delicious Living this month (the free mag you get at certain natural groceries) about how she is supporting an organization called Healthy Child, Healthy World that works to create healthy environments (particularly toxin-free homes) for children.

Dern talks in the interview about how she has always questioned having products in the home that must be locked up because they are poison, a thought that solidified with her once she had kids (her hubby is musician Ben Harper and they have two kids).

She describes her family’s “less is more” mantra; gotta love that.  It’s a nice, easy mantra to remember when making any buying decision, or planning decision, or any decision really. Less is more. It works.

And Dern also says she cleans with vinegar and lavendar oil (OK, do you think she really cleans her own house?).  Maybe I need to make that next step from the “natural” cleaning products (Seventh Generation, BioKleen, Mrs. Meyers) I buy now!

My sincere apologies to any regular readers for my delinquency in posting this month. You see, my 22-month-old has turned into a teenager overnight. (And I’ve had a big deadline, but that’s less interesting for the purposes of this blog.)

My sweet, cuddly baby is here in just glimpses these last couple of weeks. The rest of the time, it’s like she’s going through puberty. You know, the natural development. The mood swings. The desperate need for intense attention and wild independence, changing from moment to moment. The rebellion (at this age, to naps). And, the trouble with sharing.

Sharing.

It’s a tough concept, for two-year-olds and, frankly, for adults.

The idea is lovely. We are generous with our things, our time, our feelings, and our attention. We let other people have a turn. And we hope they let us have a turn, too.

The actual practice, though, is complicated.

How much sharing is OK before we start to feel we’ve given too much? What if the other person doesn’t share back? Are there times when it’s OK not to share?

I’m a fan of the idea that the more we give, in the larger sense, the more we receive. I truly do believe our generosity pays, sometimes in ways we can’t immediately see, and the more confident we are in ourselves the more we are able to share with others. However, I also understand that we need to make some kind of boundaries so as not to get walked all over.

So, how do you illustrate all of this to a toddler? By example, of course — right? But how does sharing really play out in our grownup lives? In friendships lately, I’ve had to set boundaries with some while opening up more in others. In professional encounters, I’ve had to attempt to understand others’ quite different concepts of sharing and not sharing this year. In marriage, we’re constantly renegotiating the sharing of chores and time.

It never gets less complicated, really. Sharing is a wide and murky river, never static or crystal clear. It starts tossing us around before we’re even two. I see it in its most dramatic form in my tantrum-prone toddler lately. It’s hard.

Still, I suppose it is basically just taught and understood by example. By showing that we continue each day to navigate that murky river to the best of our abilities. Being kind and generous, and true to ourselves. Believing that, for the most part, giving to others does not take away from ourselves. And, yet, seeing that speaking up for ourselves (with respect for others) is important.

We learn so much by watching the behavior of others (some to emulate, some to not emulate). As parents, we can just try to be an example worthy of following. As people, I guess it’s the same.

And, sometimes, if we feel the need to act out and say “mine!”, well, it’s only natural. Maybe it needs to be said sometimes. Or maybe we’ll learn to share more when we get a little bigger.

I was lucky to “cyber-meet” writer mama Amy Mercer when we participated together in an online writing class taught by the “official” Writer Mama, Christina Katz. (That class, and Christina, were the impetus for me launching this blog, by the way!). The Writers on the Rise class was on platform-building for writers, and many of us were struggling to define our platform (mission statement, focus), questioning, kvetching, trying on this and that.

Amy was one of the only class participants who had her platform down from day one, and just needed a nudge in launching it. Amy’s platform is about being a woman with diabetes, and helping other women with diabetes, especially younger ones who are living through what she already has.

I instantly became sucked into Amy’s platform — her blog, articles, and books-to-be — because I know well that health is the absolute, fundamental foundation of “having enough.” Without our health, everything looks different, every challenge is harder. And Amy has faced this reality every day for most of her life, with dire consequences if she doesn’t. She did this as a teenager. And now as a 36-year-old woman with kids. And a writing career. She has a lot to share with us.

Here are Amy’s answer’s to my “four questions”:

1) What does “having enough” mean to you?

Having enough. Hmmmmm….I don’t know if I’ve ever believed I had enough. I am definitely a grass is always greener kind of girl and I struggle with that straight jacket on an almost daily basis.

As a woman who quit her well paying job when my first child was born, and haven’t gone back yet, my husband and I have been living on a fixed income for what feels like forever. I want to be the kind of person for who living within my means is a lifestyle choice, the kind of person who recycles her children’s clothing, who lives in a small house, drives an old car and cooks dinner every night because it’s better for the environment not because I can’t afford to go shopping, buy a bigger house or go out to dinner more often.

I even want to be the kind of person who writes just because I love to write, the kind of person who doesn’t care about being published, but that’s just not me. I think the only thing I’m sure I have enough of, is my two boys!

2) What do you think about the concept of “having it all” in our culture?

On that note, I do cringe at the idea of having it all. I believe we are a wasteful culture and I alternate between being green with envy and feeling nauseous when I see the giant homes, giant SUV’s, giant bodies eating giant portions (not envious here) around me.

I grew up in New England and come from a family that believes, “Everything in moderation” is the way to go. I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes when I was 14 years old so having it all, as far as food was concerned, was never an option for me. So it’s probably my Protestant/Diabetic upbringing that is very anti-having it all.

3) How do you define success?

To me, the definition of success is a mixed bag. I know I feel best on the days when I have woken up well rested with a good blood sugar reading, had a great morning run, got my kids off to school without too much trouble and can come home to write.

I feel successful when I am on a roll writing, when something I write gets published, when someone likes the story idea I want to tell. I felt successful the other day when I apologized to my son for being grouchy and he said, “that’s okay mom, you’re a famous writer!” (my name was in the paper that day for a book signing!) I’ll feel successful when a book publisher agrees to publish my anthology, Dreaming About Water, a collection of personal essays and practical advice by and for women living with diabetes.

4) Can you describe a defining moment in your life when you had to choose between “having enough” or pushing for more? (And how did it turn out for you?)

The moment that stands out for me is when I quit my job. I knew I couldn’t go back to work and leave my new baby with a nanny or a day care provider. I didn’t care what kind of sacrifices we had to make, I was ready to sell our house and move into something more affordable so I could stay home with Will. There was just no way I was going to do anything but.

I am an introvert by nature, I am not someone who is comfortable asking for what I want but this time I knew I had to. I stood up for myself and refused to back down from that decision and I have never regretted it.

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Readers, how does health factor into your vision of “having enough”? Do you take your health for granted? How do you deal with health challenges?

This is the title of a newspaper column written by one of my fellow Mama, Ph.D. contributing writers, Jennifer Margulis.

Jennifer spent a year in Niger with her kids, and saw how the imaginative level of their play, and their inner joy and creativity, blossomed without toys. When she got home and unpacked her kids’ plethora of action figures and such, she realized how these items had actually been destructive to her kids’ creative development.

This is also very much like the philosophy of Waldorf education, which we’re looking into for our daughter. (Ironically, though, we are having trouble figuring out how to afford this pricey school in order to keep her life simple and natural — go figure! But, I digress…)

It’s the idea that too much “stuff” clutters the imaginations and development of children. With a clean palette, just nature and the simple items of home, they can create stories, games, ideas and worlds. If we pile their palette with too many colors (toys, activities, etc.) they don’t have room to make their own art.

For me, the same principle applies to adults. Too much stuff, too many toys or activities, and I start to get overwhelmed, disorganized, anxious. My body starts to wobble, a sore back or a sore throat my typical too-late wake-up call that I’ve pushed too hard. The stuff or activities aren’t really enjoyable if I don’t have breathing room to step back from them and process.

It’s a fine balance, but in both parenting a child and my own grown-up life, I am finding that the less clutter I accumulate, the happier I and my child seem to feel. This doesn’t mean I go to the extreme — I do have stuff and she does have toys. I just try to contain it. For me, if two days of the week are booked, I leave the other days empty. My vanity and closet are much less cluttered than they used to be (vanity as in bathroom cabinet, but I suppose the other kind, too). For her, a new toy comes in, an old one goes out. A crazy morning, a quiet afternoon.

Breathing room. Imagination. Fresh air. Quiet. Thinking time. Creativity. Togetherness. Sand on toes. Wind in hair. These are what make me smile, and exhale. And I have to agree with Jennifer, toys are not necessary for any of them.

Part of my vision for this blog is a series of “four-question interviews.” I’ve written four questions around the theme of Having Enough, and I’d like to get a variety of people to answer them, from authors and thinkers I admire to people I know in my personal sphere who have made life choices that seem in keeping with my mission here.

I’m proud to have my first interviewee come from within my family. My brother Jeff is 35 and a committed husband and dad to two sons, ages 4 and 9. He and his wife Gretchen are pros at thinking outside the box and making lemonade out of lemons. When they lost a child, born prematurely, between their two boys, they started a non-profit to help others with preemies. When their third-grader was struggling in school despite the fact that he was devouring 300-page books at home, they decided to home school, and now he’s thriving.

And, last year, when they moved into their dream house (a brand new five-bedroom home on the Chesapeake Bay) and realized it was more than they needed, not to mention more expensive and resource-sucking than they wanted, they sold it and downsized, big-time. Now the family of four lives in a 1,000-square-foot renovated farm house on a heaping acre-plus in suburban Maryland. They’re growing their own food, raising chickens and angora bunnies, and working toward a different dream — running a self-sustaining home farm business.

Jeff still works as marketing director at a company outside Washington, DC (another interesting “having enough” choice, as he describes below) and now spends his free time farming and learning about alternative energy options (including the corn stove they just bought, using their home-grown corn to heat the house and feed the chickens!). He also designed the Having Enough logo and my freelance business web site, by the way (how lucky am I?).

Here are my brother’s to-the-point answers to my Four Questions:

1) What does “having enough” mean to you?

Having enough time and financial flexibility to spend as much time as possible at home with my family.

2) What do you think about the concept of “having it all” in our culture?

I think that American consumerism (and the rest of the world following suit) is a major culprit in the problems that our society is currently facing and will continue to face in the future unless attitudes and actions change.

3) How do you define success?

Same as having enough – having enough time and financial flexibility to spend as much time as possible at home with my family.

4) Can you describe a defining moment in your life when you had to choose between “having enough” or pushing for more? (And how did it turn out for you?)

I recently received a promotion at work and after three months I went back to my previous position at my previous compensation – what good is status and money if you don’t get to watch your kids grow up? As far as how it turned out for me, it was the best thing that could have ever happened – I love my life and now I know for sure that climbing the corporate ladder is not for me.

Stay tuned for upcoming four-question interviews — next up, a feminist author fresh back from her latest book tour!