Stay at Home Mama
Dear Donna, I wanted to say Thank You for articulating your thoughts and going along setting up the MCP. I am a SaHMama (Not Mom! Whole 'nother Rant) with 2 dds 11 and 16. The elder attended a Waldorf Kindy from 5.5 to 6.5, the younger has never been to school. When the girls were little I went through all sorts of "hazing" behaviors from others who did not value at-home childhood. I now endure the fussing of those who do not understand why anyone would not send a child to a public high school. I feel I have survived emotionally by the skin of my teeth!
Actually, I often feel as if I am a bearer of messages from the past. I was able to be at home with my mother and breastfed at least a year, in the 1950's yet, because of family allergy history. We live out West, near the rural area where my mother was born. Both my mother and I had children late and my mother is still living, so we have access to living memories of many life customs before too much pressure from modern industrial norms. Meanwhile, whenever we are out in public with our girls, folks are constantly commenting on how lovely they are, how nice to be with, how folks appreciate youngsters who treat all people as worthwhile human beings. Last night my younger girl was confirmed in the church and even the priest cried for joy. My bookgroup thinks my girls and I are weird because we talk together all the time, but I think they also idealize us as a different species or something.
Where do folks think children get these people skills? We have started saying, "Yes, they are worth the work!" when folks compliment us on the girls. At least it's a tiny start at articulation!
Maggie in Spokane
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Stay at Home Mama!
The deal with being a SAHMama is a long story, but important to me.
I grew up in the 1950s & 60s, calling my mother "Mom," as did many. I know I tried out other names occasionally, but mostly I just went along with the crowds. When I began educating myself for myself after college, I began to read women writers and to think about the many different ways women build relationships. I'd always been very grateful for my mother, but as I read more of other women's experiences, I became even more grateful for her. She and I were blessed with a wonderfully positive communication style. We had some extra closeness because we were the only two females in our house. My mother was a bit older than most in the 1950s, which gave her perspective on and extra gratefulness for us children. I thought about the rich inheritance of family lore I'd been given, with all the stories of my mother, my aunts, my grandmother, great grandmother, and great great grandmother.
The word "Mom" seemed incredibly inadequate. Mom just sounded so Twentieth Century, so Modern, so In The Box. Mom resonated for me with TV, with being a cute, plastic, perfectionistic Melting Pot American housewife in Suburbia. A Mom might listen to experts with lots of degrees but have no sense of wisdom of her own. A Mom, poor dear, might have a personal inner life, but would probably not express it. Or she might not have time. (I did tell you this is a rant, yes?)
The big point for me was that folks have called their maternal parents "Mama" a very long time. "Mom" was a new name for times focused on newness and progress. Meanwhile, so much of mothering involves nurturing awareness of and passing on old practices of collective wisdom. Where did this Mom word come from? It's a short form, as if folks didn't wish to take the time even to say it right. I wanted to express respect, uniqueness, love, and joy whenever I said my mother's name. I wanted to acknowledge the rich female heritage we shared. I wanted to acknowledge that I knew, even if no one else did, that my mother was an amazing person, that under the title "housewife" she lived a rich life of great value to herself and many others.
So the year I turned 25, I wrote a letter, explaining my thinking. I truly wasn't sure if my mother would feel angry or confused, because I wanted to change my name for her, from "Mom" to "Mama." Back then, we actually wrote letters about once a month. I didn't know if she would think I was being ridiculously over-serious, or expressing disrespect for all the years before. Instead, she wrote right back, delighted, and signed her letter, "Mama." It took a while before I used that name when talking to my brothers, but now that's it. Sometimes with my daughters around, she's Grandmama, but mostly I call her Mama. I can't really remember how it felt to say Mom to her. (As you might guess, I'm more than twice 25 now!)
When I finally became a Mama myself, I noticed a great deal of pressure toward mom-ness again. Docs say, "Mom, will you hold her?" Other kids say, "Ask your mom!" It's hard to find books that call mothers anything but Mommie or Mom, depending on the age of the children in the books. Yet people have been using the name "Mama" for centuries. We stand in a very long line of maternal nurturing when we use the name, Mama. Of course, folks use "Mom" to mean the same things, but it just didn't work for me. I am so very grateful for the nurturing which has come to me and which I can pass on. All of that is called out for me in the simple syllables of "Mama." Thus, I am a SAHMama. My children talk about "when I'm a Mama someday." I'm grateful for other Mamas I've found, and I'm grateful for the work of the Madonna Cloak Project, to affirm what Mamas do!
Blessings, Maggie in Spokane