"THE CLUB[S]"
I didn't realize it when I started, but being a mother means belonging to a series of clubs. Some of these are formally organized; others are ad hoc. Membership is mandatory, but there are no life-time affiliates. Mothers move through the clubs in parallel motion to their childrens' development. Once they have left one club, they are no longer invited to be in the previous ones. It is a harsh reality.
The first one is called "Mother of Infants and Babies". This club is filled with bleary-eyed women, who compare notes on sleeping (or not) patterns, teething, potty training, and feeding schedules. There is a fair amount of competition in this club. When other members casually mention that their child slept through the night at 3 days, and was potty trained by ten months, it is easy to feel sub-standard. This results in a mad scramble around in a now-mushy brain [because of the cumulative effect not having slept through the night in three years] to determine the unidentifiable cause of their child's failure to achieve. There's not a hope their offspring will ever sleep through the night. And potty training? Forget it. The trial run at age two was a complete disaster, when it turned out the mom was the only one who wanted this child to be potty trained. The little nipper could have cared less about it.
This club is not only filled with insidious competition, but it is full of guilt. [Warning, gentle reader: The guilt follows you through all the stages] Mothers berate themselves for not paying enough attention to the prenatal classes in the section about sleep patterns. If only they had adhered to a more strict schedule of feeding. Maybe their child wouldn't be so niminy-piminy.
The good news about membership in "Mothers of Infants and Babies", is that although membership is mandatory, and the years seem to stretch out in front of a young mom like a never-ending freight train, release into the next club is imminent.
The next stop is at "Mothers of Small Children". This club moves at a breakneck speed. It is a never ending round of play dates and phone calls with girlfriends or grandparents over the latest antics, and hair-raising ploys of the children to injure themselves (albeit with no forethought). Moms in this club spend a lot of time rescuing the children from each other and from themselves. There's not a lot of time for competition. This is a more collaborative guild.
The members of "Mothers of Small Children " have come out of the fog to realize that there are some freedoms available for them, if only they would network. Babysitting clubs abound - "You take my kids, and then I'll take yours; or better yet, I'll pick you up with my Station Wagon (or mini-van if you are from more modern times) and we take all the kids on our errands. That way, we have some adult time, and the kids can squabble in the back, and we'll bribe them with DQ if they have some modicum of good behaviour". Mothers in this stage also see the days of full-time school ahead. They promise themselves that the day all their children are in school for the whole day, they will go home and have six uninterrupted hours of sleep.
Small children grow up and become school-aged, which leads the mothers to enter the "Mothers of School-aged Children" club. This one can last for a long time - depending on how moms spaced their childbirths. Mothers in this association are forever joining committees [or else avoiding committees altogether]. The ones on the committees have long conversations about how to get the 'avoiders' to join their committees. The ones who are not on the committees do everything they can to avoid being nominated for any committee at all. These might include: "The Committee to Increase Playground Safety" or,"The Teacher Appreciation Committee ", or "The Committee to Get Kids to Apply Themselves in Class", or (and this is the worst one) "The FUNDRAISING COMMITTEE".
There are also many sub-clubs (or groups) in this stage.
'Mothers of School Aged Children" [MOSAC] and one in the "Mothers Of Children Who Are Launching". [MOCWAL] club. This is where I find myself today. This club is filled with women who are familiar with the rules of the "MOSAC", and are comfortable with what that looks like; while being completely out of their comfort zone in the "MOCWAL". Their children are beginning to venture into that big bad world, from which the mothers have spent 18 or more years trying to protect them.
The members in this society have a certain look on their faces. They are smiling, but their eyes are threatening to spill over. They shrug their shoulders a lot, and say "Whaddaya gonna do?" or "It's not my responsibility anymore....is.... it?" The clubhouse for this group of mothers contains a lot of tea and chocolate [and occasionally a bubble bath]. A couple of kittens wander around - little gifts from well-meaning relatives who want to make the mothers feel a little better that their children are now at the age for which they've been grooming them through all the other stages - launching. Eventually the mother is no longer allowed to have a foot in two camps.
There are a few other other clubs for mothers. I cannot comment on them though, because I haven't been accepted into them yet. I am not in a hurry. Soon enough, I will be a part of "Mothers with an Empty Nest" and "Mothers of Mothers of Infants and Babies". I might even be asked to join "Mothers Whose Chicks Flew Back". I don't know. But for now, I am still a part of MOSAC, and have begun muddling through the MOCWAL, club. Hand me a kleenex, and that box of chocolates, would you?
The first one is called "Mother of Infants and Babies". This club is filled with bleary-eyed women, who compare notes on sleeping (or not) patterns, teething, potty training, and feeding schedules. There is a fair amount of competition in this club. When other members casually mention that their child slept through the night at 3 days, and was potty trained by ten months, it is easy to feel sub-standard. This results in a mad scramble around in a now-mushy brain [because of the cumulative effect not having slept through the night in three years] to determine the unidentifiable cause of their child's failure to achieve. There's not a hope their offspring will ever sleep through the night. And potty training? Forget it. The trial run at age two was a complete disaster, when it turned out the mom was the only one who wanted this child to be potty trained. The little nipper could have cared less about it. This club is not only filled with insidious competition, but it is full of guilt. [Warning, gentle reader: The guilt follows you through all the stages] Mothers berate themselves for not paying enough attention to the prenatal classes in the section about sleep patterns. If only they had adhered to a more strict schedule of feeding. Maybe their child wouldn't be so niminy-piminy.
The good news about membership in "Mothers of Infants and Babies", is that although membership is mandatory, and the years seem to stretch out in front of a young mom like a never-ending freight train, release into the next club is imminent.
The next stop is at "Mothers of Small Children". This club moves at a breakneck speed. It is a never ending round of play dates and phone calls with girlfriends or grandparents over the latest antics, and hair-raising ploys of the children to injure themselves (albeit with no forethought). Moms in this club spend a lot of time rescuing the children from each other and from themselves. There's not a lot of time for competition. This is a more collaborative guild.The members of "Mothers of Small Children " have come out of the fog to realize that there are some freedoms available for them, if only they would network. Babysitting clubs abound - "You take my kids, and then I'll take yours; or better yet, I'll pick you up with my Station Wagon (or mini-van if you are from more modern times) and we take all the kids on our errands. That way, we have some adult time, and the kids can squabble in the back, and we'll bribe them with DQ if they have some modicum of good behaviour". Mothers in this stage also see the days of full-time school ahead. They promise themselves that the day all their children are in school for the whole day, they will go home and have six uninterrupted hours of sleep.
Small children grow up and become school-aged, which leads the mothers to enter the "Mothers of School-aged Children" club. This one can last for a long time - depending on how moms spaced their childbirths. Mothers in this association are forever joining committees [or else avoiding committees altogether]. The ones on the committees have long conversations about how to get the 'avoiders' to join their committees. The ones who are not on the committees do everything they can to avoid being nominated for any committee at all. These might include: "The Committee to Increase Playground Safety" or,"The Teacher Appreciation Committee ", or "The Committee to Get Kids to Apply Themselves in Class", or (and this is the worst one) "The FUNDRAISING COMMITTEE".
There are also many sub-clubs (or groups) in this stage.
- There's a group for super-involved mothers. They firmly believe that there is a direct proportion of involvement and their children's success in the classroom.
- There's one for mothers who have taken a non-paying job which requires congregating outside of the school to talk amongst themselves about anything, and everyone, while casting sidelong glances at anyone who dares to walk by them.
- There's generally a group of mothers who want to find other mothers whose child(ren ) is (are) not faring so well academically/socially/emotionally.
- And then there's one for mothers who studiously avoid anything that has to do with the educational process, and go to Starbucks every Tuesday at nine -either together or by themselves. No matter.
- Oh, and one more: The sub-club for mothers leave their pajamas on, and drive their children to school, and then park in the middle of the only two parking spaces in the parking lane, so their children can grab their tubas, soccer gear, and science fair projects. These mothers hold up traffic for a bit longer, when they remember some important bits of information that they must yell out the window to their disappearing offspring about how "Today is Tuesday and don't forget to be out at the parking lot RIGHT AFTER School so we won't be late for piano lessons". This is a popular sorority, but the only members are those mothers who are blissfully unaware of the irritation they cause in the rest of the constituents of "Mothers of School-Aged Children". [ And sub-group #5 is subject of many conversations in sub-group #2]
'Mothers of School Aged Children" [MOSAC] and one in the "Mothers Of Children Who Are Launching". [MOCWAL] club. This is where I find myself today. This club is filled with women who are familiar with the rules of the "MOSAC", and are comfortable with what that looks like; while being completely out of their comfort zone in the "MOCWAL". Their children are beginning to venture into that big bad world, from which the mothers have spent 18 or more years trying to protect them. The members in this society have a certain look on their faces. They are smiling, but their eyes are threatening to spill over. They shrug their shoulders a lot, and say "Whaddaya gonna do?" or "It's not my responsibility anymore....is.... it?" The clubhouse for this group of mothers contains a lot of tea and chocolate [and occasionally a bubble bath]. A couple of kittens wander around - little gifts from well-meaning relatives who want to make the mothers feel a little better that their children are now at the age for which they've been grooming them through all the other stages - launching. Eventually the mother is no longer allowed to have a foot in two camps.
There are a few other other clubs for mothers. I cannot comment on them though, because I haven't been accepted into them yet. I am not in a hurry. Soon enough, I will be a part of "Mothers with an Empty Nest" and "Mothers of Mothers of Infants and Babies". I might even be asked to join "Mothers Whose Chicks Flew Back". I don't know. But for now, I am still a part of MOSAC, and have begun muddling through the MOCWAL, club. Hand me a kleenex, and that box of chocolates, would you? 
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