Is this the original "Sandwich Generation" member?

In thinking more about Toni Morrison's book, Beloved, I came upon some new thoughts. The main character of this book is trapped trying to meet the needs of her past and the needs of her present. The returned spirit of her murdered baby daughter is demanding payment from Sethe for the life she missed out on. Sethe's living daughter Denver has immediate needs as well. These all get put on hold while Sethe uses every last bit of her energy in an attempt to pacify the irritated and needy spirit that is Beloved. Sethe is the equivalent of a modern day "Sandwich Generation" Mom.

I think that when we hear that that term it can be difficult to visualize what it means, unless you are in that generation. In a sandwich we have a marrying of many flavors, everyone gets along and you have a cohesive unit that makes for an excellent lunch. I think a better term would be the "Vise Generation." The competing needs of the parents and children can squeeze both the emotional and physical resources out of the adult that finds themselves at the center of this arrangement.

I wonder if we have given much thought to if it is even fair for these parents to expect this type of assistance from their grown children. Our preceding generation at least knows that they have medicare and social security in place to assist them. In most cases their standards of living exceeded that of their parents, and they were able to make a living in many industries that don't exist in the US anymore. With a family today, we have an unbelievable amount of demands on our ever dwindling resources. Food, housing, utility, and child care prices have skyrocketed--and wages have not kept up with the demands. Why are we making additional demands on adult children? What will be the consequences for their children?

You are mine............

My dear husband has recently posted photos of my 10.5 month old walking on Facebook. He is entirely adorable and we call him Frankenstein because he walks with his hands in the air as if pretending to be a monster. It is no doubt one of those things I will have to write in his baby book or it will be lost forever.

After watching my young son learn to walk and reading the novel "Beloved" by Toni Morrison for about the 10th time, I am contemplating the idea of possession of our children. It seems to me that from the moment of conception, our children are working to take leave of us. Motherhood is the only job I know of where being successful means that you make yourself totally unnecessary.

When you first find out that you are pregnant, you are overcome with the repercussions that all that you have done (or failed to do) can bring about. I didn't know I was pregnant with Luke (and had no plans to conceive again) so I did not take any vitamins or eat all the right foods. I had even had a few drinks before learning he was on the way! Having known every intimate detail of my other childrens conception left me totally unprepared for the feeling of this person taking root long before I realized he was on board.

The feeling of being pregnant is almost indescribable. You feel as if your body is being taken over by something that is part of you...and yet separate. First nourishment goes to the baby, it can take calcium from your bones, iron from your blood, all the nutrients it needs. It is the first lesson a Mother receives in giving to her children first and herself second.

The baby is born and takes leave of it's Mothers body--but the need for closeness (yours and theirs) is acute. A baby needs his Mother's milk almost as much as he needs the nourishment from the placenta. It is a special thing--the milk changes with the age and needs of the baby. It varies from feeding to feeding . It is something made by the Mother exclusively for this child at this time. When the character of Sethe was violated and her milk taken from her--I felt her rage--when so much had been taken from her, that this part of her mothering ability was being taken from her as well.

It seems that a baby growing into a child is a succession of leave taking from it's Mother. It begins with the fact that the need to always be held diminishes. They begin to sit up on their own, to crawl, and then to walk. I guess that is why it is with a bit of sadness that I watch my little boy walking around the house so soon. This is concrete evidence that a baby is a gift for just a little while and with each step he moves a little farther away from me. He is his own person, he never truly was mine to keep forever.

The Pursuit of Perfection

I have spent most of my morning cleaning and reorganizing the playroom that seems will be a part of our home for a few more years at least. As I worked with my daughter putting things back into their proper bins and rearranging things so they would be out of the reach of my 11 month old son. I wondered why it was so important that this be done. It bothered me that for the last two days I had not made the children clean up this room and just let the mess stay. Where does this quest for perfection come from? My children certainly didn't care what the playroom looked like and we didn't have company coming over, but I couldn't achieve a feeling of peace until everything was put away neatly.

Do our husbands ever feel this need? Certainly Lou (my husband) cleans the playroom. He cares that the children are all safe--but he would never be embarrassed if someone popped in and saw that the playroom was in such a state. I think I am slowly starting to loosen these demands that I place on myself. It is necessary for my sanity. I no longer cringe when I get a B on something (unless there are too many of them!)--I understand that sometimes compromises have to be made on this road to a degree and that I must accept that I can't be perfect all the time. Why can't I have that same outlook on child care related duties. I know that my children will not grow up and look back and worry that their playroom was sometimes in disarray? I wonder--do we judge each other? Or are we just judging ourselves?

Changing for our Children

Reading Beloved, by Toni Morrison. I am struck by her terrible decision to take the life of her child rather than subject her return to the life of slavery. It got me thinking about what we do as Mothers to change the lives of our children so that they will be different from our own childhoods. I am in awe of parents who are able to say that they think their own family of origin was so good that they would like to emulate this in their own nuclear families.

I was raised by a single Mother in an urban environment. We did not have a close relationship to either her family of origin or that of my father. We were pretty much a closed unit into ourselves. I know that being a single Mother is the hardest job that anyone could have, but in our case, it proved problematic.

I set out with my own children to give them a life different than the one I had. I moved them to a semi-rural area with hopes that they would grow up surrounded by a sense of community. My husband and I have decent ties to our families, although I would like them to be stronger. We work hard on our marriage and hope and pray to stay together and provide our children with a strong foundation with which to move forward in this world.

We do our best to provide a structured environment for our children. Schedules and set rules and methods of discipline provide a framework that keeps life predictable for our brood. I guess I am often struck by the fact that it seems that people either loved their childhoods and try to emulate them for their own children, or hated them entirely and try to do everything different.

The decision to become a Mother

I faced significant fertility challenges in my journey to motherhood. There was never a question in my mind that I wanted to parent children. I did not feel a huge pull for biological children, but I did not feel strong enough to handle adoption in America. The day my first child was born was indescribable. I was so grateful, I was overwhelmed, I was joyous--and I was scared to death.

In my rush to motherhood it never occurred to me that there were going to by emotional challenges involved in childrearing. When my three day old son was returned to me crying after his circumcision, I was bereft. I hadn't spent countless hours researching the subject. I hadn't made sure he had adequate pain control. I had simply blithely signed the form and let them take my little man away for this cruel experience.

I will never forget the way I felt when he was brought back to me. The cold realization that this little person whom I had desired -and worked so hard to have--was now out in the world--and I coudn't control everything that would happen to him. He would experience pain, loss, difficult times--and I couldn't always protect him. It shocked me, and it still scares me until this day.

Before I had children I could never understand the fact that some of my friends decided not to have children at all. A few were veterans of the infertility wars. They had decided that there casualties had been too great and they were pulling out and going home. These people I could empathize with, it was a terrible battle. Win or lose, you emerge with scars.

I had other friends--married--in good relationships--no known fertility challenges--who simply decided that they didn't want children. They wanted a life with each other. These people travel, go to movies, concerts, fairs, and events. I simply couldn't fathom that this life could ever be fulfilling.

Fast forward 10 years. I have four children, and I love them all dearly. I would never give any of them back. But I can now understand that choice. There is a way to be fulfilled in life without procreating. There are ways to have children in your life without having to raise them and put forth the physical and emotional effort of being a main care giver. I see these people in the lives of my children and I know that they are better off for having them. It is amazing what a little time and distance can do for your perspective.

Accomodation

I have a woman friend who is negotiating the world of job hunting right along with me. She has a master's degree and has worked most recently as a school counselor in Wake County. She also has two young children. Instead of pursuing another counseling position, she has decided to take a less demanding role to be more available to her children as they enter the public school system. She recently interviewed for a teaching assistant position and was struck by the fact that this role would require her to hire a baby sitter to care for her son because her schedule would not coincide with his. My question is--would this really be so difficult for an employer? The role of teachers assistant is one that she would be great at and she is highly trained. It seems to me that it would be a wonderful position for many mothers with young, school aged children.

In my own situation, my husband works nights and I work days. We still have a period of time that is about 90 minutes long each day where there is an overlap in our schedules to accommodate commuting times. We hire a babysitter for this time. It strikes me that when I am interviewing for positions--it would make my life so much easier if I could move my start time up by one hour--then no babysitter would be needed at all. I dare not bring this up though, it isn't even considered part of the dialogue. I wonder why this is? I am sure that not having to rely on another person to show up at my house and care for my kids for that brief period would actually make me a better employee.

We need more women owned businesses and women in positions of power to make this part of the national consciousness. We already acknowledge that quality child care is out of reach for many families. Making work/life balance discussions and options for women--and men! Would seem to me to be a logical step in a happier, more productive paid labor force.

Across the "color line:"

I have to admit that I still bristle when I am met with yet another person telling me that racism no longer exists. That all people have had to struggle because of something and that African Americans just need to "get over it." Although people do their best to sugarcoat this sentiment--I hear it's many forms OFTEN.

As the white Mother of black/biracial children, I feel that I am in a unique position to tell people that (hold onto your seats people), "Racism still exists!" "Gasp!" I would agree that the mass hosings and large scale public demonstrations against people of color are hard to come by these days, but their subtle younger siblings walk amongst us every day.

I know what it is like because I was once one of you. I walked around in my life with the obliviousness of white privilege and never even knew I had it. Much like good Mothering, white privilege is something you only notice when it is gone. With my white boyfriends we were always addressed as "Sir" and "Ma'am" when out shopping or at a restaurant. Now, my husband can be called, "Man" and I sometimes don't get acknowledged at all.

I guess the biggest difference is there now is the question. Whenever we are slighted at a restaurant, is the waitress having a bad day? Or does she have a problem with our races? The same holds true with our children. If the teacher says my son is disruptive in class--is her opinion biased? I now have to ask that question--and parent accordingly.

Mother"Work"

I have been thinking about the use of the term "Motherwork" by Pat Hill Collins. She discusses the idea that society in general thinks about the sphere of home/family life and work/wage earning life as two completely separate entities. Yet, this is clearly not the case. People can clearly only go out into the public arena and compete for wages when their basic needs have been met at home. Someone has to have loved, fed, and cared for them as children-as well as having to meet their needs at home as adults in order for them to have the freedom to be part of the wage earning public.

When as a young woman, I thought about having children, I never thought I would be married. My parents divorced when I was a young child and the idea of a husband/father in the home was one that I could not conceptualize in any real sense. Now I find myself in the role of Wife, Mother and wage earner. I have no actual experience in watching my Mother go about managing a male ego while supporting her family. I just have memories of her doing what needed to be done. She worked, paid the bills, and fed the family. Through sheer force of will it seemed, she raised four children to adulthood and survived to tell the tale. The incredible volume of work that was needed to accomplish this task was lost on me until I became a Mother myself.

My experience is different. I have often been told that I am fortunate because I have a very helpful spouse. This very choice of language is an interesting one. While I am caring for our children or keeping house--I am not said to be helping--I am said to be doing. This all in a situation where I work just as many hours outside the home (sometimes more!) than my husband. The issue that I struggle with is the one of ego. In my mind we both bring in income, we both created the children, we should both care for the children and the home. It seems that adding in the task of managing someone else's ego is an added and unnecessary burden.

Perhaps living in a capitalist society we would benefit from changing the terms from "Motherhood" and "Fatherhood" to "Motherwork" and "Fatherwork." Then it would be understood that both parents need time to care for children and the home. We would see that work is all interconnected and must occur in both public and private spheres in order for us all to survive and thrive.

More on the Economics of Motherhood

I had coffee yesterday with a colleague of mine who is also looking for work in this economy (oh how I have come to loathe that term). We were discussing the pitfalls of interviewing and all of the mine field questions that we have to avoid and dance around during a typical interview. Since I have not been working since having my son in October of last year, I inevitably get asked why I have been out of work so long. I do my best to gauge the sympathy level of the interviewer in whether or not to disclose the fact of my recent addition. It struck me when discussing this with my friend because he has six children! He told me that never once did he ever worry about discussing his family with potential employers--even though his wife works full time running the family business. The two of us are fairly equal in terms of educational level and business experience. We even both have large families--his even larger than mine. Yet this was a major difference in how we had to approach the job search process. I park my mini-van as far away as possible to take away the chance that someone might come and count booster seats while I am inside. I never wear any Mother's jewelry--and carry a wallet and bag that are nondescript and contain no photos of my kids. I do all of this consciously as I am out there. It left me wondering--I need the job to support this family, yet it is something that I must do my best to keep hidden while on the hunt.