Motherhood is fraught with vaguely neurotic guilt. It starts when you
realize you took an aspirin or had a glass of wine before you even knew
you were pregnant. I'd like to tell you when it ends, but I'm afraid
I'm decades from figuring that one out.
To deal with some of my guilt, I've decided to make a public confession. I take a watercolor painting class at our local college at night and attend a poets' workshop most weeks.
Normally, I avoid mentioning that I do those things. Or I mention them almost apologetically. I mean, I run our computer company and homeschool three boys. Realistically, those activities could easily take up my every waking moment. How could I possibly be doing those jobs well, if I am taking time for myself? There begins my guilt.
Well, no more. On further reflection, I recommend the flagrant transgression of having a life of one's own while homeschooling. First, on closer examination, my personal endeavors improve our homeschooling. Our best homeschooling days come when I'm happy and focused. Our worst days are when I'm frustrated and spent. My boys' amazing minds did not appear in a vacuum. They came from their father and me. Just as the boys need challenges and stimulation to be happy, so do I. Having an intellectually stimulating, creative outlet is a necessity for me, like sleep, food and air. So, although I could give my every waking moment to my family's needs, I would not be nearly so effective and they wouldn't really want to be around me for too long if I did so.
Furthermore, in my past seven years of parenting, I've discovered that the most powerful tool I have for teaching my sons is modeling the behaviors I want to instill in them. For example, my sons say "please" and "thank you" because I say those words to them. They learned to love reading by hearing innumerable stories, but also by seeing me totally absorbed in my own books.
My class and workshops are no different. I want my sons to have a passionate love of learning. What better way to instill that than demonstrating my own need to continue to learn? Moreover, I am also my sons' primary model for women. I want them to seek out strong, independent, thinking helpmates in life. What sort of an example am I setting for them if I give up my entire life to take care of them?
Well, I'd like to continue this post, but I'm going to be late for my watercolor class. And I don't feel guilty in the slightest about it.
To deal with some of my guilt, I've decided to make a public confession. I take a watercolor painting class at our local college at night and attend a poets' workshop most weeks.
Normally, I avoid mentioning that I do those things. Or I mention them almost apologetically. I mean, I run our computer company and homeschool three boys. Realistically, those activities could easily take up my every waking moment. How could I possibly be doing those jobs well, if I am taking time for myself? There begins my guilt.
Well, no more. On further reflection, I recommend the flagrant transgression of having a life of one's own while homeschooling. First, on closer examination, my personal endeavors improve our homeschooling. Our best homeschooling days come when I'm happy and focused. Our worst days are when I'm frustrated and spent. My boys' amazing minds did not appear in a vacuum. They came from their father and me. Just as the boys need challenges and stimulation to be happy, so do I. Having an intellectually stimulating, creative outlet is a necessity for me, like sleep, food and air. So, although I could give my every waking moment to my family's needs, I would not be nearly so effective and they wouldn't really want to be around me for too long if I did so.
Furthermore, in my past seven years of parenting, I've discovered that the most powerful tool I have for teaching my sons is modeling the behaviors I want to instill in them. For example, my sons say "please" and "thank you" because I say those words to them. They learned to love reading by hearing innumerable stories, but also by seeing me totally absorbed in my own books.
My class and workshops are no different. I want my sons to have a passionate love of learning. What better way to instill that than demonstrating my own need to continue to learn? Moreover, I am also my sons' primary model for women. I want them to seek out strong, independent, thinking helpmates in life. What sort of an example am I setting for them if I give up my entire life to take care of them?
Well, I'd like to continue this post, but I'm going to be late for my watercolor class. And I don't feel guilty in the slightest about it.
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