“Don’t carpe diem”

This post is so well written and worth reading for everyone, but especially young mothers. The whole thing. Here’s a taste:

I think parenting young children (and old ones, I’ve heard) is a little like climbing Mount Everest. Brave, adventurous souls try it because they’ve heard there’s magic in the climb. They try because they believe that finishing, or even attempting the climb are impressive accomplishments. They try because during the climb, if they allow themselves to pause and lift their eyes and minds from the pain and drudgery, the views are breathtaking. They try because even though it hurts and it’s hard, there are moments that make it worth the hard. These moments are so intense and unique that many people who reach the top start planning, almost immediately, to climb again. Even though any climber will tell you that most of the climb is treacherous, exhausting, killer. That they literally cried most of the way up.

And so I think that if there were people stationed, say, every thirty feet along Mount Everest yelling to the climbers — “ARE YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF!? IF NOT, YOU SHOULD BE! ONE DAY YOU’LL BE SORRY YOU DIDN’T!” TRUST US!! IT’LL BE OVER TOO SOON! CARPE DIEM!” — those well-meaning, nostalgic cheerleaders might be physically thrown from the mountain.

But what really spoke to me is her description of time at the end: chronos versus Kairos. It almost seems to me that you can’t have the Kairos moments without the chronos. If time stood still in a Kairos kind of way all the time, we’d be frozen and would never achieve anything. Anyway, read the post, and you’ll see what I mean.  And hats off to those warrior women, raising their children well.

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Jennifer adds: I quickly realized when I got home from the hospital, and in my sleep deprived haze began eating three day old mushy peas from the fridge with tortilla chips thinking they were guacamole, that motherhood wasn’t going to be easy. It’s a tough job, parenting, and let’s not pretend otherwise. In pretending, parents can feel like isolated nut-jobs if they’re not out there savoring the moment. So I really liked this article. One of my favourite parts:

I used to worry that not only was I failing to do a good enough job at parenting, but that I wasn’t enjoying it enough. Double failure. I felt guilty because I wasn’t in parental ecstasy every hour of every day and I wasn’t MAKING THE MOST OF EVERY MOMENT like the mamas in the parenting magazines seemed to be doing. I felt guilty because honestly, I was tired and cranky and ready for the day to be over quite often. And because I knew that one day, I’d wake up and the kids would be gone, and I’d be the old lady in the grocery store with my hand over my heart. […] And here’s what I hope to say to the younger mama gritting her teeth in line:

“It’s helluva hard, isn’t it? You’re a good mom, I can tell. And I like your kids, especially that one peeing in the corner. She’s my favorite. Carry on, warrior. Six hours till bedtime.” And hopefully, every once in a while, I’ll add — “Let me pick up that grocery bill for ya, sister. Go put those kids in the van and pull on up — I’ll have them bring your groceries out.”

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