“My Family”, by Eva S.

Motherhood, a primer

My 26 year old friend is thinking of having a baby. I recently stayed with her and her husband for a short visit with my 8 year old twins. I can only hope that we didn’t scare them off. I know there were eyes rolling and heads shaking in disbelief…

Well, I wish she asked me more questions! But then how do you ask questions about something that never happened to you before? Parenting is like death in this sense: you are either here — or you are on the other side already.

So I’ve started taking notes on how I would describe to her what I was going through, and this is what I got:

1. Everything will get lost, broken, or blown away. If there is a place for a smudge — it will be smudged. I got my son a sweater and he placed a greasy stain on its front the first day he put it on. About a year later I got him the same sweater but in a larger size. Guess what? Just a few days into wearing it he gets the smudge in the very same spot. The never-ending circle of ruined sweaters. The permanency of your inability to keep shit together. You accept. You relax.
2. You can’t win any argument. When your daughter refuses to shower and says, “Mum, I just don’t like water! Didn’t I tell you this!?” — there’s no way of winning that! So there’s no point in arguing — and you are smart to realize that.
3. Guess what, it is nerve-racking! Every morning you wake up with a sense, “I hope I don’t kill anybody today!” Will they get pneumonia because I didn’t pack their gloves and hats? Will they starve to death — they did have pasta, but that was an hour ago and who knows how filling that was? And, you know, they did those studies of dirt on the subway — and most of it is fecal matter! Oh God — and I forgot the sanitizer again… Just look up number 1! Accept. Relax (even if I can’t). Plan accordingly (if you can!).
4. Time flows differently, too. Do you know what it means getting two 8-year-olds out of the door on a winter morning while trying to catch a train that leaves in 45 minutes!? Yes, it is only 5 minute walk! But no, it is not happening. Because your son is still in his pajamas, agonizing over his choice of pants. Even though there is no choice — he only has one clean pair of pants — “Yeah, but these feel weird!!” His agony spreads around the house in concentric circles as he picks up a Lego figurine from the floor and pretend-attacks a small plastic crocodile with it. And then he starts playing “The floor is lava” — while you are already late…. If you can’t accept and relax, then start smoking!
5. Sometimes you may imagine that you live in a boot camp. You say (although at that point you don’t talk anymore, you shriek!), “I’m counting till three — and you are grounded — for the rest of your life!” And then the three comes and nothing happens. And you add halves to it which can only slightly disguise how helpless you are — “Three and a half…. three and another half…. !” OK, sometimes it might work, usually when combined with your own shrieking voice and shaking in the whole body. This is when the kid might finally start getting it. Of course he should — since you are on the verge of smashing something at this point. But then what really gets smashed is you, deep inside! So, get a glass of water and scroll up to number 1 again, please.
6. There will be a period of calm and it will overwhelm you. Your daughter leans over her brother to check what he’s pointing to in his book. So sweet and rare, you stick your camera out to record this moment! But you will learn that such moments are short and finite — and the storm is imminent. Yes, I was right. A few minutes later I hear them scream at each other: “Sto-o-op!” — “No, you sto-o-op!” The universe is back to normal again. I smile.

I hope you still look forward to having kids, if you have kept reading! On the positive side, all of this will be forgotten the moment you get an unexpected hug from your daughter or when your son’s head leans somewhere right beneath your shoulder, as he falls asleep tired, on a train, after a long day.

That! And also: I recently went to a concert at our local theater. The venue is small, so even across the booming of the music we could all hear quite well a brawl brewing somewhere in the orchestra section. Somebody’s voice rose above the crowd, “Just sit down, will you!? I can’t see anything!” And then a woman’s voice talked back, “Just shut the fuck up, will you! I have triplets! I can do anything!” The next song started to play taking the tension down. Everybody went back to cheering and dancing again. But to me that was the answer. This is what being a mother is about. I can do anything now! I am invincible!