Ellen Goodman and Desperate Housewives
This editorial by the Boston Globe's Ellen Goodman came at the perfect time - only a day after I had had one of the worst days ever, totally losing it with my kids and winding up sobbing in the kitchen as I poured apple juice and spooned up mac and cheese. I love Ellen Goodman just for this paragraph:
"This "truth" is that even a woman who purposely chooses to be a full-time mom can be one nap away from losing it. The "truth" is that mothers who would throw their bodies in front of a truck for their children also fantasize about throwing their kids in front of a truck. OK, a little wooden truck."
I spend my time alternating between happiness that I can be home with my boys, not worrying about their wellbeing in one way, and worrying myself sick about their wellbeing because they are home three days a week with a mother who is often very close to flinging herself off a bridge at the thought of changing one more diarrheal diaper, cutting crusts off one more sandwich, dressing Mimi the doll one more time. I am bored most of the time but feel guilty being bored. I mean, what intelligent sensible adult wouldn't be bored watching the Wiggles, playing Junior scrabble, molding playdough, and painting trains, not to mention singing and/or listening to every children's song ever written? (It's only Dec 3 and I HATE Jingle Bells already.)
My husband thinks the pressure Felicity Huffman refers to in this article is fictional, a product of my own imagination and completely self-applied. He may be right about the self-instigated issues, but societal pressure to, for instance, NOT admit that you can totally see how Andrea Yates got to where she was when she killed her children, is insane and ever-present. This craziness manifests itself differently in different people - I don't know that I would ever lay a hand on my kids to do serious harm (I mean more than whacking their butts), but the days I have fantasized blissfully about driving myself off the Fort Duquesne Bridge are too numerous to count. I suppose admitting suicidal thoughts is way more acceptable than admitting you'd ever once considered harming your children. But every mother has been at her wits' end at some point, and it's about time we relaxed and helped each other thru it, not penalize each other for feeling what everyone feels.
In last week's episode, Lynette drives off in her minivan, leaving her kids with a neighbor, and sits sobbing at the playground. When her friends come find her and tell her that they have both been there too, she looks at them and asks, "Why didn't you tell me this before?" She should just be grateful they told her at all; most mothers wouldn't, and that is our collective weakness.
posted by BabelBabe @ 9:07 AM
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