Mothers Matter

Words name things, sometimes people. Words include the way to bring to mind an idea. It’s a symbol of what the word means. Without the word, we don’t have a way to convey the meaning from one person’s mind to another’s.

I love being Mom to these characters.
This was in Idaho in 1992.

There’s a song our Primary kids—the children at church from ages 3-12—sing around Mother’s Day. It’s starts out, “I know a name,” and eventually reveals “it is the name of Mother.”

About a week ago, I saw a piece regarding the erasure of the word mother: “Why Eliminating The Word ‘Mother’ Eliminates Motherhood Itself,” by Libby Emmons, for The Federalist. The title, and that concept, struck me. 

Emmons tells us it’s happening in laws around the world that are trying to replace motherhood with something more generic, to placate the LGBTQ community. A small, sometimes miniscule minority that denies the reality that each person is made up of the DNA of a male and female parent is trying to erase the concept of mother.

In the UK, it’s self-ID laws. In order to accommodate transgenders, they allow pretend (transgendered) “male” persons who have given birth to identify themselves as “father” on the baby’s birth certificate. Meanwhile, “mother” on the form is left blank. In other words, “mother” isn’t necessary to the birth of a baby.

In France, school districts do away with fathers and mothers, and just identify them as parent 1 and parent 2—leaving it to the male and female (or whatever) to decide who gets designated first.

In the piece, Libby Emmons says,

When we use the term mother, we invoke a shared perspective on what that word means, what it represents, what it looks like. Whether our mother was brilliant or rotten, loving or cruel, we can envision a shared ideal of a mother precisely because we have a shared history of the concept of mother.

Then she asks the question,

If we don’t have the word for mother, will the concept still exist? If so, for how long?

Do enough people understand the danger of a world without the idea of motherhood?

our boys, getting acquainted with sheep, at San Diego Zoo, 1989

This past Sunday I was teaching Sunday School, considering some things about lambs and sheep in John chapter 10. As part of that I shared a talk from the early 90s, by Jayne B. Malan, called “Summer of the Lambs.” Worth hearing again. I think it was once published in written form in Reader’s Digest. Anyway, Jayne, as a 12-year-old, had been assigned, along with her 14-year-old brother, to care for several hundred motherless lambs. It was hard work. They lost about two-thirds to starvation or predators. The most vulnerable were those that wandered off and got separated. Most of them would have grown up safe, if their mothers had been there.

That’s the way with lambs. And the way with children. They need mothers. And fathers too.

We’re about to celebrate mothers, this Sunday. It can be a hard day for mothers, who feel so much pressure to meet the “shared ideal of a mother,” simply because they love their family and believe they deserve that perfection, while mothers are also keenly aware of their own mortal limitations.

In honor of Mother’s Day, a couple of years ago, I compiled a Motherhood Collection of blog posts I’ve written. I think that’s still worth sharing: here. 

In hopes of helping mothers feel like they are enough, I’d like to share this video from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, called “You Are Enough.”

Motherhood Collection

Mother’s Day is coming up Sunday. It does that every year. Sometimes I write about it; sometimes I don’t. But I thought maybe it was time again. And now I’m not sure I can add much. Maybe I should just collect those pieces and wish all the women out there a Happy Mother’s Day!

I will say, first, that women who look at motherhood today as something they may or may not want, don’t understand the decision. It’s not like deciding whether or not to adopt a dog. Maybe it will fun, but maybe too much trouble and mess. I’m all for adopting dogs. But becoming a mother is about much more.

When you become a mother, you understand love in a way you didn’t before—even if you are in a very strong, loving marriage. If you want to know what God feels for you as His child, let yourself feel the full, natural love that suddenly fills up your life the day your child is born.

You thought it was about bringing up children, but if you want to become the best person you can become—patient, kind, long-suffering, unselfishly joyful for the success of others, humble, learning, caring, loving—your best, transformational school is your home as you raise your children.

Your life in a career will not bring you this training. This is not to say no woman should have any career but raising her children; always do what God leads you to do with your talents, capabilities, and passions. But if you want to become the best you, let your children teach you.

Five years ago today, my baby girl (my only girl) Social Sphere got married. She’s an example of a mother who takes delight in mothering. And just recently announced baby #2 on the way. The photo is Little Social Sphere, in his (almost everyday) Captain America outfit, about to get a sidekick.

Little Social Sphere
is going to get a sidekick

And here is the Motherhood Collection from this blog:

·         Mother Joy, May 8, 2014 

·         The Good Part, May 8, 2013 

·         Home Making, May 6, 2013 

·         The Motherhood Study, May 6, 2011 

·         Another Word about Life, January 30, 2013

·         Family Superpower, July 29, 2013      

·         That Decision Mothers Make, November 3, 2014 

·         Motherless Princesses, June 17, 2013

Mother Joy

I’m at the stage of life that I no longer require the annual (or more frequent) reminder that motherhood is worth doing. And maybe even better, I’m past the guilt of wondering whether I’m a good enough mother. So today’s blog, ahead of Mother’s Day, is meant to help younger mothers get greater joy out of their mothering, which is what I think God intends for them.

Being Grandma is the dessert of motherhood.

Point one: Just being a mother, in an age that has skewed what it values, is honorable. You’re doing it; your kids are alive. Yay! Here are some words of wisdom in support of the wonderful thing you’re doing for civilization: 

“The righteous woman's strength and influence today can be tenfold what it might be in more tranquil times... Other institutions in society may falter and even fail but the righteous woman can help to save the home, which may be the last and only sanctuary some mortals know in the midst of storm and strife.”—Spencer W. Kimball 

“The homemaker has the ultimate career. All other careers exist for one

purpose only—and that is to support the ultimate career.”—C. S. Lewis 

 

“Women who make a house a home make a far greater contribution to society than those who command large armies or stand at the head of impressive corporations.”—Gordon B. Hinckley 

“For this child I prayed; and the Lord hath given

me my petition which I asked of him.”

—Hannah, mother of Samuel, 1 Samuel 1:27 (KJV)

 

Point two: You’re not in this alone. Not only is there a daddy working alongside you (I hope), these children in your care belonged to God first. He is especially fond of them. He wants them back home with Him, after this growing, earth life adventure. You don’t have to be perfect at the job. God entrusted you; trust His judgment. You don’t have to meet some unreasonable level of super-mom-hood before you qualify to ask for help. “Ask, and it shall be given you” (Matthew 7:7, KJV).  It may be true that parenting is harder today than when we were children. It might seem perilous. This is no reason for despair; it is reason to “pray always, and be believing, and all things shall work together for your good” (from a Mormon scripture, Doctrine & Covenants 90:24). 

“Imperfect people are all God has ever had to work with. That must be terribly

frustrating to Him, but He deals with it.”—Jeffrey R. Holland 

“Parents today wonder if there is a safe place to raise children. There is. It’s called a gospel centered home.”—Boyd K. Packer

 

Earnestly Striving + Christ’s Atonement = Enough

—Linda Nuttall 

That last one is mine. I’m sure others have had the same  idea, but it came to me as something I needed to remind myself. So I wrote it on the little message board on my refrigerator, and made a post for it on Pinterest.

 

Point three: Live with joy. There was a time this was particularly difficult. My children were small, and I was just discovering some chronic illnesses that were making things more challenging than I had expected. Like having constant infections, and never getting back up to better. Meanwhile, kids had their illnesses, including ear infections. But I knew in my heart it shouldn’t feel like a miserable burden to take care of my own children that I loved.

So in my prayers I literally asked for the ability to take delight in my children.

The physical challenges didn’t really go away—still working on that. But when I look back on the child-raising years, I know I truly did delight in my children. What wonderful, bright, funny, delightful children I got to raise!

Let me add just a note about the homeschooling decade we spent. You know how in the early years, you get so excited when your child learns a new thing? First step, saying “Mama.” We think it sort of goes away after those first few years—but it doesn’t. When you’re the homeschool teacher, you get to be there for those other discoveries: how to do the quadratic equation, the ability to read music, loving a book you always wanted to share with them. A child gets something new—and you’re there to see it!

If that’s not what you feel called to do, fine, don’t stress over it. But just know that, even though it’s exhausting, it’s a joyful way to live. Note: there were bad hours many days, and sometimes just bad days. But there was also a huge accumulation of really worthwhile living I am so grateful I had. 

"I think you will find, my young friend, that in life most of the work in the world is done by people who aren't feeling very well."—Russell LeBaron Briggs, Dean of Harvard Law School, 1995 

“Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great.”—Doctrine & Covenants 64:33 

Point four: Endure well. Endure is one of those words heavily weighted with suffering. But it doesn’t have to be. It can be just staying on the path, correcting slight straying, and just doing what it takes to make the journey. So advice on this point is, again, not meant for guilt, but for increasing joy.

Love yourself. Love your husband. Love your children. Accept yourself the way you are, encouraging yourself to be the best you who is still you. Accept your husband the way he is, encouraging the good, and never shaming whatever might not be perfect/more-like-you or less-like-you. Accept your children the way they are, encouraging growth, encouraging their natural goodness, and never shaming whatever might not be perfect/more-like-you or less-like-you.

If any of these things seem overwhelmingly hard, ask for help. Ask God first. If you need more help, He will lead you to it. He plans for you to succeed, and He’s very good at accomplishing His plans. You’re his daughter, and you’re a mother—know that He loves you. 

“The way we talk to our children becomes their inner voice.”—Peggy O’Mara 

“If you have a bad thought about yourself, tell it to go to hell because that

is exactly where it came from.”—Brigham Young 

“Ordinary people who faithfully, diligently, and consistently do simple things that are right before God will bring forth extraordinary results.”—David A. Bednar 

“As you create a home, don't get distracted with a lot of things that have no meaning for you or your family. Don't dwell on your failures, but think of your successes. Have joy in your home. Have joy in your children. Have joy in your husband. Be grateful for the journey.”―Marjorie Pay Hinckley, wife of Gordon B. Hinckley

More on the Ultimate Career

There are a couple of myths, contrary to each other, that both need a reality check:

·         Women are as smart and capable as men, and therefore should do the jobs men do in order to fulfill themselves; taking time out to be a mother can be a nice hobby for some, if they can handle that as well, but the real living is in the traditional man’s world.

·         Women who are only mothering ought to be doing better than they are, like everyone else does, because it sure isn’t rocket science.

We’ll take them in turn. First, women are smart and capable. In fact, a higher percentage of women currently graduate from college than men. While there are a few jobs women aren’t as a rule physically strong enough to compete in (pro football for example), most jobs can be done by a woman. Some jobs are preferred by women, but practically everything is open.

The part that is untrue is that doing a man’s job is a better life choice than giving birth and raising children, which just gets in the way of that real life. Having children isn’t a hobby for some; it is the purpose of the rest—the ultimate career. (See the two quotes at the end of Monday’s post, Home Making.)

My friend's baby #9, with big sister looking on,
the hour he got home at 2 days old

I’ve been noticing in media for quite a long time that almost every TV character is a single, attractive, young adult with the story potential of connecting in love with possible other characters on the show. Married family people are anomalies. (As are unattractive, undesirable characters, for the most part.)

When a person in media is a parent, it appears they got that way without sacrifice. Example: remember The Cosby Show back in the 80s? Cliff and Clair Huxtable reminisce about high school dates, so they have known each other since childhood; presumably they got married during college, or between college and graduate school. She is a lawyer, which required no less than seven years of schooling post high school. He is an obstetrician, which must have taken about twelve years for college, med school, and residency training in the specialty.

They are still youngish parents in this show. The oldest child is in college, so probably 19 or so years old. There are five children, spread over, I’m guessing, some 17 years or so of childbearing. Clair looks to be maybe 40, but we could stretch that to maybe 43. (In fact Felicia Rashad was only 10 years older than the actress who played the oldest daughter.) So Clair got pregnant probably during her first year of law school, at age 23. I’m not sure of the other ages, but she probably gave birth again her first year after law school, as a working lawyer, at maybe 26. Then again at 28, and again at maybe 32. And then there’s a gap of, let’s say eight years, so she’s 40. (I really don’t remember the ages of the children, so I’m guessing, but this will do for our purposes.) The first three come while she’s either in law school or early in her career as a lawyer—while her husband is in med school and essentially unavailable to help with the diaper changing and walking the floor at nights.

We don’t see them until they’re upper-middle-class successful. They are one of my favorite TV families; the kids are realistically age appropriate, and the parents handle their immaturity with patience, eye rolling, and humor. They’re a great example. But we never got to see how this family survived pregnancies and babies with neither parent available for in-person parenting. Was it impossible? Technically no. But very improbable.

If we, as non-fictional humans, are unable to get through law school and med school simultaneously while giving birth to child after child, so that we look lovely and comfortable by our early 40s, maybe we should shrug off the comparison. Just doing the best we can, under whatever our circumstances, ought to be enough.

Which brings us to the second myth. Taking care of children at home is a challenging job. It requires so much patience and understanding, and toleration of messiness of many kinds. It does look like drudgery sometimes; sometimes it is. And it does look idyllically easy sometimes; sometimes (though rarely) it is. But there are challenging moments every day. And if we’re open to notice, there are also some blessedly beautiful moments every day. But one thing there isn’t is a perfect version out there, of someone whose house is always clean and beautiful, with décor and food and party planning always worthy of Pinterest and mommy blogs—some impossible myth we don’t measure up to.

We need to trust that, if God is entrusting his beloved children to us, He wants us to succeed in loving them, and with His help we can do whatever qualifies as enough and then some. Let go of the angst; it’s not helping anyone.

To end, I’m sharing a link to a piece about accepting less than perfection; I love their not-ready-for-the-blog photos.

And then, please enjoy this rather beautiful little video called, “Life Doesn’t Come with a Manual; It Comes with a Mother.”

 

The Good Part

Motherhood is one of the key ingredients in civilization, so I’m spending another day on it prior to Mother’s Day.

I came across something yesterday about the sometimes painful time Mother’s Day is to some women. I’m linking it, because it’s worth reading. Early on I experienced some of the angst. I had lost a child (I told this story here). Then I went through some of the challenges of fertility treatments—not as long and difficult a journey as for some, but Mother’s Day was awkward a few times.  My mother had similar years. She also lost a child. Then she went through a long series of miscarriages—and during those years, women came to her accusing her of being selfishly unwilling to have a child. I have a hard time imagining such conversations between women, but that is how she remembers the pain.

Fortunately, in our church, when it’s time for mothers to stand and receive their flower gift on Mother’s Day, all women age 18 and up are asked to stand and receive the gift. The thinking is, all women are either currently mothers, or future mothers, or have been mothers, or do some mothering to those around them, or, at the very least will experience the gift of motherhood in the next life. So no one is allowed to be left out. I don’t know if that entirely does away with all pain and awkwardness, but it is an attempt to love and honor.

The author, Amy Young of The Messy Middle blog, has a portion where she suggests ways to respond to various women’s situations, which is quite lovely. One of the lines made me smile: “To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year—we grieve and rejoice with you.”

Now, for what I want to share today:

Many years ago, for a Mother’s Day, I wrote a poem comparing the scripture story about sisters Mary and Martha with the need, as a mother, to give time and not just dutiful service. It’s a challenge mothers continue to face in the effort to make a civilized home. May God bless all women in their moment-by-moment efforts to make the most joyful choices!

The scriptures I refer to in the poem can be found in Luke 10: 40-42 and Matthew 25: 35-40. I use the classically beautiful King James Version of the Bible. 

Minerva Teichert painting of Mary and Martha with Jesus

The Good Part 

Sweet, young, faithful Mary,

Attending undivided to her most Beloved guest;

Thinking of the moment as a present

To be unwrapped with wonderment. 

And Martha, good and sturdy Martha,

Cumbered about much serving

While the others carry on without her.

She aches to sit with them,

Yet works to give a worthy table. 

The aching must have pained a bit too much:

If Mary would please help a moment,

To hurry the everyday along,

Then both could sit with their dear guest. 

“Martha, Martha, thou art careful

And troubled about many things:

But one thing is needful:

And Mary hath chosen that good part,

Which shall not be taken away from her.” 

One needful thing:

That Martha had not chosen.

She could not spend time for Him,

Or time with Him would be lost. 

In my own small, learning home,

I am cumbered about much serving—

Washing and peeling and cooking, too,

For many of the least and most

Of these my brethren, children, husband. 

They get so hungry and dirty.

Yet, how unaware is the little child

Of his clean shirt and slow-cooked supper.

Rather a sandwich and a story for dessert. 

I am the needful thing!

Myself a gift to one of these—

The same as sitting at His feet.

And if I choose that good part,

Time with my Beloved guest shall not be lost. 

—Linda Nuttall

     May 8, 1984