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When a mother reaches out from a bad day, it is only another mother who can fully understand her. When she tries to describe the incidents and moments that brought her to the brink of insanity, she is incapable of helping the listener to feel what she felt in that moment. Unless, of course, the listener is another mother. In that case, the mere sound of exasperation draws out memories of similar moments.

“Oh, yes. I know those days,” she might say. She is able to recall how devastating the moments can be, how much energy they take to get through, how it takes everything she has not to lose it. She can surely empathize, but when you’re not in the moment, you can’t truly feel it. And, that’s a good thing – or the mommies in the moment would have no one to call.

I recently started writing a column for a far-reaching women’s website. I am the editor for a particular component of the site and part of my responsibilities are to participate in a forum connected to my site’s topic. It is also beneficial for me to participate in other topic’s forums.

When you enter the forums of BellaOnline, recent posts are listed in the right-hand column. Often, the topic titles sound interesting to me, and I click on them. Quite often, in the last few weeks, the titles that I have found intriguing have led me to the CF forum – that’s child-free, for those of you who don’t know.

For a while, I read the topic on “why do you WANT to have children?” and felt like a voyeur, reading the inner thoughts and outer judgments of married women who do not have children. I felt the aggravation they went through when people continuously asked them when they were going to have children or told them how selfish they were for not wanting children. Some of the posts lashed out at the child-rearing women of the world who wanted children because “that’s what you do after you get married” or “they wanted someone to be there to take care of them when they were older” or “they wanted to leave behind a legacy”.

I couldn’t take it anymore. My response went something like this: “Hi Everyone. I’m a bit nervous to be posting here. I have four children ages 7, almost 6, almost 3 and 18 months (am I scaring you already?). I just wanted to say that I do not understand the choice of not wanting children, but I do not judge it. I also think that the reasons your friends are giving you for having children sound ridiculous and shallow. Perhaps, if they thought longer, there reasons would lie a bit deeper. Then again, perhaps not. I always knew I wanted to have children. I enjoyed babysitting, working at summer camps and helping underprivileged and difficult children from an early age…. “ I went on to give my own personal reasons for wanting to be a mother and raise children. You can think of your own reasons.

I also went on to say that my experience with motherhood has been a profoundly deep spiritual journey – one that I cannot quite name in concrete terms – but that it challenges all of my weaknesses and causes me to think about my actions on a much deeper level. Because I do not have a lot of free time, I have to really think about the things that are important to me and ensure that I carve out time for them. I do not have the luxury of just going through the motions with no identified purpose or goal.

I thanked them for allowing me to be a part of the conversation and hoped that I provided them with some new insight. That conversation is STILL going on. It has gone from thanking me for sharing to complaints about mothers with children not having time to recycle (why are we recycling, the CF women say, when we don’t even have children to save the planet for), to women talking about how they have time to volunteer and give to charity and give to the community and raise stranded dogs because they do not have children and the subsequent financial responsibilities to worry about.

Is it conversation? Is it defensiveness? Do people with children really judge that CF people that harshly? From my perspective, I made up my mind to have children and I don’t really need to list the reasons why for anyone. I’m confident enough with my decision that what you think really doesn’t matter to me. Is it because I am in the majority that the situation is not difficult? Is it the same as the annoying question “trying for a girl?” that I kept getting when I was pregnant the fourth time? (we had three boys first)… If that’s the case, you come up with your smart ass comeback and be done with it “no, we’re trying for twin boys.” I didn’t feel the need to list all the reasons WHY I was not specifically trying for a girl.

All that being said, did I mention that I don’t much like being a mother today? It has been an overwhelming, stress filled, crying child makes you leave the store without buying anything, get nothing done, children bickering with each other, me just kind of standing there dumb-witted kind of day…. But I never once thought that I’d like to be child-free. I just don’t care for my job today. I’m tired. My children are driving me crazy. I’m losing my patience and not entirely happy with my reactions. But, this is life… and it’s just a bad day.

continuation

So, I discovered this afternoon that Aaron has the same cry when he gets hurt as he has when you know he is not really hurt but he's freaking out anyways. I discovered this when he received a blood dripping dent in his forehead after ramming it into the door knob while chasing Ilan and Isaac.

Shortly thereafter, Jeff, our swimming teacher arrived and - believe it or not - it was another cocky moment in motherhood. I was changing Ellie's diaper, waiting for him to ring the bell. I noticed poop in her shorts - how did that get there? It must have been left over from this morning. Did I mention changing a poopy diaper during my first shift? A few minutes afterwards, I still smelled something. I lifted her up, smelled her, couldn't find the source anywhere. When I got up from the floor, I noticed poop on my foot, my pants, the carpet.... I'm still not sure what happened.

When Jeff arrived, only one of three was eager to go swimming. After the first one went in the pool, the other two wanted to go in too. So, instead of taking turns like they normally do, we took advantage of the (rare) moment. I quickly put Ellie down for a nap, and she went to sleep this time. One might think a mother could have 60 minutes to catch up on dishes, dirty tables, pajamas still lying around, the laundry in the dryer - on the dryer - and waiting to go in the dryer - but, no, I played secondary lifeguard.

It was well worth the hour. To see my children - two of whom have hated the water since they were six months old - enjoying themselves was pure ecstasy. Ilan was the worst of them. He hated baths as well as the pool, and here he was going off the diving board and swimming - really swimming - to the side. Aaron was the stubborn a** who, unless he could do what he wanted - play on the raft - would cry and whine and scream for 30 minutes straight. He was diving off the side of the pool - like a leaping bat all spread out - splashing into the pool and swimming back to the stairs. Then there was Isaac, who I haven't even pushed into swimming lessons yet because I want him to enjoy the pool. He decided he wanted to swim - with Jeff - today. He was jumping off the side into Jeff's arms. He was putting his face in the water and blowing bubbles. He was playing on the stairs, having a blast. Jeff bounced back and forth between them and I bounced wherever he wasn't, running inside to get shoes for my burning feet and a camera so their Daddy could see them when he got home tonight (did I mention he is out of town?).

Swimming ended. Ellie was sleeping. Bathing suits came off, clothes went on, snacks were had. Minutes later, I decided we would take Ilan to his karate class. I put everyone in the car without their shoes on, told Ilan to get in his karate uniform and, at the last minute, woke Ellie. We went to karate, three of them staying in the car and watching a movie on the VCR my brother-in-law won at a charity auction and kindly gave to us to install in our car. Karate lasts an hour. Now, we're home. They already ate dinner (it's 5:33pm). They are playing. I am typing and Ellie is in the saucer whining because it's time for her to go to sleep.

I put Ellie down, get everyone else in pajamas, watch as they play in the bounce house that now occupies my bedroom. We bought it when Aaron was younger thinking it would help to release some of his energy. They bounce. I create a meal plan for Friday night when we always have a dinner and usually have guests. I put Isaac to sleep. Ilan and Aaron take turns on Club Penguin (moms of young children - check it out - a great website for young children www.clubpenguin.com). Ilan and Aaron go to sleep. Aaron comes out of his room to give me his worries he forgot to give me. Ilan comes out of his room to get cold, cold, very cold water. Aaron comes out to ask how many hours until morning. Ilan comes out to ask why the sun is still out if it's night time. I warm up leftovers for dinner. I'm ready for bed.

I turn around and notice the pile creeping over the edge of my sink. My dishwasher is clean and I have to unload in order to re-load. I see the shoes on the floor, the pile of swim suits and towels, the three baskets of laundry waiting to be folded, the toys spread out on my bedroom floor from the last half hour of the day (I am always amazed at how quickly a clean room can be destroyed - even when under supervision). I check the clock. I need to get some sleep before I have to wake up with Ellie.

Oooops, I hear somebody crying. Gotta go!