Facing Forward

While I recognize that the whole "new year, fresh start" idea is thoroughly cliche, I do genuinely appreciate the opportunity for self (and family) evaluation that the new year brings with it. Are we where we want to be? (Not yet). What could we be doing better? (Lots of things, apparently). We had a wonderful Relief Society lesson today presented by our bishop, who offered a series of tips on small things that we can do to improve our spiritual, emotional, and financial lives. I found the ideas inspiring and energizing and I am excited to try and implement some of them in our lives.

2009 has--unusual in this down market, I know--been good to us, as we were able to find a job that Dan enjoys and buy a home for the first time. Our children are healthy and happy, Dan and I are (generally) happy (Dan more so than me, but then, I struggle with chronic pessimism), and if I occasionally find myself feeling less-than fulfilled, I should have only myself to blame, right?

I know everyone faces their own struggles. One of mine is struggling to fully understand and come to terms with my role as a woman and a mother. Once upon a time I had grand ambitions of changing the world, of sharing insights so profound that they would dazzle the beholder, of writing prose so compelling and spare that your heart would hurt to read it, of being something--someone--incredible. I think most people have those moments as young adults, that feeling of a destiny so high and majestic that you can only grasp at it. Now, as a sober adult, I struggle sometimes to reconcile that feeling of potential with the daily reality of motherhood. (A job that, in my more honest moments, I have to admit that I'm not always sure I'm qualified for, or even very good at.) I know we talk a lot in the church about the majesty of womanhood, about the innate abilities of a woman to succor and nurture those around them, but I've always felt that I must have been otherwise occupied (reading, maybe?) when those gifts were given out, since I don't feel particularly nurturing. I want to be, but some days I find my heart in an almost constant battle with my head, my emotional reactions tempered by my inevitable tendency to intellectualize and analyze.

Let me make this clear: it's not that I think being a mother is not important. I do. (If I didn't, I wouldn't be spending the majority of my time home with my children). I even believe that my role as a mother is divinely sanctioned. It's just that I don't always feel that sanction, don't always see the end result of my labors clearly, don't always know how to connect my youthful sense of potential and self worth with my current work. (Do any of us?)

And maybe, truth be told, I'm feeling just a little bit sorry for myself, as the flip side of goal-setting is the inevitable realization of how far we are from where we want to be, hence the goals. I'm trying not to set overly ambitious goals for myself, goals that beg for failure. I'd like to end 2010 with the feeling that I've done a little bit better than I have in the past, that I'm a little bit more the kind of person--and mother--that I want to be, more importantly, the kind of person God needs me to be. It strikes me, writing this last line, that maybe this, too, is part of the problem: the kind of person God needs me to be is not necessarily going to be the kind of person I think I need to be, or the kind of person the world would valorize. And if I feel conflicted about my role, maybe it's not the role that is problematic, but the expectations I bring to that role. I don't have to be a miracle mother: I don't have to publish the hottest academic research in my field; I don't have to write a prize-winning novel; I don't have to run marathons; I don't have to teach my child to read by age four (too late anyway) or have them potty trained by two; I don't have to make my children's clothes and food from scratch; I don't even have to keep my house clean all of the time in order to love my children (even if, sometimes, I think I do). While that love may be imperfect, it is real. Perhaps, with enough help (from Dan, from God, from family and friends), that love may be enough to help us turn these kids into decent human beings. That's the hope, anyway.

I had started this post with the intent to recap our trip north to grandma and grandpa's house (and the inevitable post-holiday shopping with my mom), but somehow that no longer seems to fit with the tenor of the post. (Although my mom should know that Andrew now deems our house insufficient and wants his old room under the stairs back).