Rewarding motherhood

DH and I were having a conversation last night about the 'rewards' of parenting and how I've been feeling lately. "Real" jobs give you concrete rewards. Each day you look at your stack of paperwork accomplished, or number of sales made, or whatever measure of success your job uses, and you know how much you did successfully today. You can leave satisfied that you did a great job without anyone telling you or patting you on the back and saying you rock.

Kids don't work that way. Each day you could count the number of diapers changed, (perhaps I should time myself and be proud of my efficiency per diaper change or something?) noses wiped, tantrums ignored or whatever, but what makes you feel like you were a brilliant mom at the end of the day? The husband thinks the fact that my kids are brilliant and generally happy should be enough. I think that on a day to day basis, where at any random time some kids are happy and some are not, I can't take credit for the happy kids and ignore the unhappiness. I can't say that just because A learned a new word today that makes ME a great mom. Maybe she learned it from Elmo? Who knows?

So how, at the end of a day, do I feel brilliant about the job I'm doing? I've had a history of jobs at which I did excellent work and knew daily that I was a success. Mothering? Not so much. Each day I have failures. Failure of discipline, failure of handling a crisis, misunderstanding a kid, yelling too much, almost crying with frustration and so on. How do you overcome all that 'failure' with just saying "oh, well the kids seem happy usually so I must be a fantastic mom?"

Perhaps they were just born happy? Maybe I have unusually brilliant kids genetically? Maybe it's grandma who makes them so happy, not me? Where do I get my daily affirmation that I am doing a great job?

DH just can't fathom this issue. He feels proud just because they are great kids. That's all it took over the 4 days he cared for them. But you know what? He gets to go back to his job where he is brilliant. He doesn't have an endless string of days and months of the same every day crap the kids pull to drag him down from his self esteem of previous days. I used to know I was brilliant at about anything I tried to do. Now? I'm not so sure. Am I a good mom? And if no one tells me that I am, can I believe it about myself somehow? And even if people tell me I am, how do I not discount their opinion due to them not seeing how I parent when I'm alone (when I'm generally more yelly and frustrated)?

I need me some Dr. Phil or something. Someone to tell me that it's as plain as the nose on my face that I rock as a mom. I can't wait 30 years for one of my kids to turn around and say that I did ok. I just can't.

A Small Success

It's funny how proud of yourself you can be when you succeed in entertaining your triplets for a whole day, including a grand adventure to a new location, especially when you're not used to doing so. So here I sit, exhausted as heck, but pleased. I was able to start the day with my kids, dress them, feed them breakfast, pack them up in the car, take them to a fantastic museum, keep them from running off or being carried off by someone else while they ran loose in a crowded place, feed them lunch, bring them home and kick their butts into nap, which was only the first half of the day. Lord I needed that nap.

But I made it. And it's pathetic that I'm so proud because there are triplet moms out there who do every single stinking day by themselves. I still had grandma for most of the day. Some moms have no help so they can't go to crowded places where triplets can run away from them. Some moms are run into the ground beyond my imagining and here I am with one day under my belt.

Damn the economy and all that. Losing half my nanny hours and having to finally take responsibility for caring for my children for several whole days each week sucks eggs. Wah, I cry like a baby about it all but let's get real. Isn't it about time for me to figure out how to do it myself? These are my kids after all. But it doesn't help to go to a triplet mom dinner last night and sit next to a woman who has 5, yes FIVE caretakers for her children. An au pair, a night nanny and three other nannies. She says that during the day there is never less than 2 people other than herself caring for her kids. She was unapologetic because it means her interactions with her kids were all positive and she is rested and can enjoy them more.

Oh lord people. I had to sit next to this woman for more than TWO HOURS. The day after I had to face the reality that I can't afford my morning nannies. And she's all complaining that they don't always place the stroller in the right spot and how she only feels like the upstairs has to be completely OCD her way because it's her sanctuary, the kids area can get messy as long as it gets all cleaned up at the end of the day. It's not too much to ask since she has FIVE people. What else do they have to do?

I have never left a dinner more depressed in my lifetime. So today is a triumph. What that lady missed today? Was the joy of understanding my children better. The joy of figuring out that even when you want to drop dead by 4 pm, you can push through and make it to the end of the day with your kids. My sense of accomplishment is deserved. And I will have many more successful days in the future. Sure, I'd love to win the lottery, sell my house at or above what we paid for it and find the best, cheapest, most perfect house to buy and move into, but until then? I will keep chugging and finding new reserves of energy from somewhere. Legally.