"The Ultimate Modest MOM"

In a tip of the hat to Mother's Day, a recent edition of a local magazine ran a cover piece entitled "Celebrating Moms". Accompanied by an eye-catching photo of a lovely woman embracing a smiling child, it promised an examination of the amazing bond between mothers and children.

When you got to the article, though, it turned out to be a celebration of working moms, rather than moms in general. OK, great: although I'm not a career mom myself, I have many friends who do the incredibly difficult task of working and mothering, and do it brilliantly, mustering energy and juggling capabilities that I can only goggle at.

But I thought it was a bit disingenuous when the piece mostly celebrated the glamorous career and not so much the mom part. You see, the jobs involved weren't administrator or nurse or even teacher, jobs that a great number of working moms do. Instead, they featured: the president of a TV consumer products marketing unit, the director of traveling programs for a major museum, a morning broadcast news anchor-- not your average working mother jobs.

Did I take this as an insult to all the "non-working" (or non-glamorous) mothers out here, including me? Heck no. This is a magazine, designed to attract readers, and therefore advertisers, and therefore dollars. The attractive, glamorous career moms profiled here are just the equivalent of a beautiful model selling products: she is more likely to get the job done than an average-looking female. Fact of life, or regrettable hard truth, depending on your point of view.

But if we're going to truly celebrate moms around this national holiday, let's celebrate the "mothering" part. Really, that's the hard part, the part that doesn't come with a regular paycheck or title or feedback from HR.

So, with an utter lack of modesty, I'd like to introduce a new blogger-ette and budding poet (Eve, watch out!):  my daughter Reilly Neville, age 8. I present to you my paycheck, my title, and my feedback from HR:

                           "The Ultimate Modest MOM"

L ove her, she

I s amazing. Would be a great

Z ookeeper. She was social from

T he day she was born.

"H ello

E veryone, I'm here"

U sually she's extremely

L ikeable, and she's always loveable.

T he best,

I ncredible, perfect, divine

M ajor, lovely, just mine.

A t ballet, she's

T he best.

E ats healthy. She's not a pest.

M ore than just a normal

O r average girl that's formal.

D oes

E verything

T hat's

S uper

T hat's

M rs. Neville.

O h, she's SO not a devil, she

M akes my day.

Comments

[Jeannine K.]

Liz, I have heard a number of women over my career say they go to work (demanding jobs I might add) to get a rest from being at home with the kids. Being home is too tiring, exhausting for them -- so they go to work to rest. Clearly your daughter values your love, your giving your 100% to raising her. Don't underestimate the demands and value on what you are doing.

In college, as a summer job, I use to work in a day care. It is why, if I had kids, I would do ANYTHING to avoid putting my kids in one. The day care was highly praised, well run, and good caregivers, won praises for "best run". That wasn't the issue.

I noticed a few things -- the day care had a range of kids -- some kids whose Mom had to work for financial reasons. Those moms when they came to drop their kids off everyday were saddened in doing so, were bummed they had to leave their young child to the care of day care employees. The child knew the mother's heart. (The child knew the father's heart too for that matter.)

Then there were those moms that wanted to dump their kids off for whatever reason. Those kids knew the "whatever reason" -- the bigger house, the prestige, the insecurity, the dislike of caring for kids -- etc. The child knew the difference.

I also noted how the children handle it. The most curious 2-3 year old children tend to lag behind the pack as they discover every detail on a path, or in a tree. As a result, they are constantly getting scolded -- "Hurry up! Catch up! Stop looking around we need to keep moving!" Two-three year olds are not meant to be pack animals! The ones that get this most? They are the ones that will become scientists, the discovers. And instead of being praised for their intense curiosity, they spend their childhood scolded constantly, "Hurry up. Speed up. Quit slowing down."

And then the one who is always leading the pack, with loads of energy -- who loves to run ahead, lead everyone to some great thing on the playground, fearless in his/her discoveries. That child is always told to quit that too.

Why does this happen? A day care worker (even with low numbers) has to manage 4-6 toddlers all at once. That's like trying to handle quadruplets, quintuplets, sextuplets. You have ignore every one of those kids as some point too often. It's just a reality. - they get far less care. Even from the very very best caregiver.

And the net result, the leaders of the group, the curious, are raised to have their spirits squashed very young.

I just heard a radio ad for a day care for your sick kids. You can drop off your kid when he's puking or sneezing--sad because that's when their child needs them the most!

So congratulate yourself on a mother's job WELL DONE!! LOVE THAT POEM! How sweet!

You are praised ! By me anyway !

[Alexandra Foley]

That is so cute! Having been both a career gal and a (unpaid) mother, I have to say that those kinds of paychecks mean so much more.

[R.B.]

Cute poem!

My mom has a glamorous career (I think) -- she's a doctor. I suppose our family could have survived on my dad's assistant professor income when I was a little kid, and that she's therefore a bad mom by many people's standards. (Why my dad isn't considered a bad dad for working outside the home, I don't know.) Anyway, my mom was and is a wonderful mom, and many of the qualities that make her a successful doctor also make her a good mother. She's great at explaining things, she's patient, she's got an infectious curiosity about every aspect of the world, and she's extremely tuned in to her environment.

I don't remember anything about the daycare I went to, but I do remember how my mom taught me about science as I was growing up. She showed how my blood looked under a microscope, brought home a fetal pig, helped me catch cranefly larvae, taught me algebra, and explained how her stethoscope worked. It was wonderful to have a mom who cared about so many things outside herself, and outside her job as a parent. In fact, it was one of the best things about my childhood.

I'm not trying to disparage anybody else's mom here, but my mom is living proof that having a career is not opposed to being a good parent.

[Kelly Ryan]

Motherhood is a very hard task that is given to special parents so that they could learn and grow from the expierence that the children give them. Only being a child, I feel that my mom has a very hard job. She is a stay at home mom and she sometimes does part-time teaching for the nursary school in Hillsdale.Between my sister and I she has a pretty hard job to do. With me I do track, chorus, and anything else that comes up in my weekly plans. My sister does so many clubs, band, and chorus. Between my sister and I running us everywhere, she has a difficult job, just like other stay at home parents. I am so glad that you felt that in the mother's day issue of the magazine that the mother's should be recognize not only the mother's who work but the mother's who do not have jobs but have a very important task in life, raising their children.
P.S. Great Job on the poem, Reilly!

[Donna McAuliffe]

A mother could not ask for a more wonderful tribute from your most important fan and critic, your daughter. Glad to see both sides of motherhood (the unpaid and paid)getting a cheer or pat on the back at Mother's Day. When I became a mother I never realized that my paid job would be the easy one. Thankfully my children continue to train me in art of motherhood. I couldn't ask for better teachers. Reilly, nice job!

I absoulutely LOVE the poem, though I wish I could fine tune the zookeeper bit.
From Reilly age 11