Having It All

I’ve read a couple of different articles lately expressing the views of highly successful women on whether women can really “have it all.”  The trend seems to be more and more toward saying, “No, you can’t.  You have to make choices.”  Well…DUH.  This conversation annoys me to no end because the question, “Can women [or anyone for that matter] have it all?” is a trick question.  What the hell is “it all”?????  It's different for everyone.  It’s a moving target.  It’s a way to make women feel as though there’s some “all” out there that is achievable if they only figure out how.  It’s crap.  Has anyone stopped to define what “having it all” really means?  I have a sneaking suspicion that all of this pontificating about whether and how women can have it all has skipped right over actually defining what “it all” means.  This leaves us running around opining about how this way or that way might work to get us to the promised land of “having it all,” when we don’t even know what that means.  We wouldn’t even recognize it if we had it.

Can you have it all?  Yes.  You can have the things you want most, and give up the things that mean less to you.  Do I have it all?  Yes:  I have a career that works beautifully for me—I work mostly from home and have flexibility.  Do I have it all?  No:  My job does not give me some great sense of inner fulfillment, and I gave up more prestige and money than many people would want to give up.  Do I have it all?  Yes:  I have a functioning, happy family.  Do I have it all?  No:  It took me till I was 42 to have a child and she’s an only child.  I have mom guilt about not spending more time with her.  Do I have it all?  Yes:  I’ve traveled all over the world.  Do I have it all?  No:  I haven’t been out of the country for years.  Do I have it all?  Yes:  I have enough money to do the things I want to do.  Do I have it all?  No:  I still have student loan debt from almost 20 years ago.  See the problem?  It’s a RIDICULOUS question.

I have it all because I say so.  I’ve determined what is most important to me, and I’ve traded the other stuff to get it.  My idea of “it all,” however, might be your worst nightmare.  And who cares?  There is no one, perfect “it all,” and we owe it to ourselves to stop pretending otherwise.  Can you have it all?  Absolutely.  You can define your own “it all,” and go out and get it.  Stop chasing this myth of a single way to “have it all.”  I know what my “having it all” looks like.  Do I have it all?  Yes:  I have what I want most right now.  Do I have it all?  No:  There are a thousand more exciting things to go after.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

The Depth of the Struggle is the Height of the Joy

I was reminded today of a really rough patch in my life about nine years ago. I was rehashing it all with a friend and I said, “Damn. If I had known then that it would take almost ten years to work through all of that, I don’t think I would have made it.” It has been a huge mountain, marathon, or whatever other metaphor exists out there for a long, arduous journey. And now there is just one word that fills my mind like a prayer offered to the universe:  Wow. Wowow. The view from the top of my mountain is stunning.

Imperfect Bliss

I've been reading a book about allowing moms to get real about how hard parenting is. The authors interviewed lots of moms and found that the initial responses were things along the lines of, "Everything's GREAT!  I LOVE being a mom!  I love my kids!" Then, when the authors probed a little deeper, moms started revealing that they were really stressed out and sometimes downright miserable. Moms started revealing the little mom things they'd done that were far from perfect, like yelling at their kids, feeding their kids cheese puffs for dinner, and wishing they could spend more time on their careers. The book is all about letting go of judgment and expectations so we aren't being so hard on ourselves. I think it's a good book that a lot of people will relate to, and I think the truth needs to be told. I think it's important to get the honest tales of parenting out there instead of pretending we're all perfect. The weird thing, however, is that the book isn't really speaking to me. I really am ecstatically happy being a mom. I absolutely love having a day where I rock the baby, and cook a meal, and open the windows. I love the daily joys, like the way J smiles when she sees us in the morning, or the peace that comes when she has been in pain and finally feels better. I don't share this too much, however, because I feel like it's too sugarcoated. I don't want to sound like a parent who is trying to convince others that I'm living in this little ball of perfection and bliss, so I make sure to point out the bad things, too. But if telling the truth is what's important for supporting each other in parenting--and I think it is--I love it! I am living in a little ball of IMperfect bliss.

But here's the thing:  it doesn't look like it sounds. It is a MESS!!!  I just love my little mess, that's all.  I had one of those days recently that I love: Mike took the baby for most of the day, I had time to catch up on my to-do piles, work on J's baby book, cook a yummy soup in the crockpot, open the windows, and play some music. When Mike and J came home, we ate and watched the Oscars--my absolute fave.  It was one of the best Oscar shows in years. We all were in bed by 10 and J slept all night.  BLISS! It sounds so wonderful, doesn't it?  It was! I love it! But here's the part that is also true:  My to-do piles didn't get as done as I'd hoped, ordering photos for J's baby book unexpectedly turned into a 3-hour project, the soup was done late, the house got too cold with the windows open, and J screamed--SCREAMED--through most of the Oscars. We missed half the show and were on the internet desperately trying to figure out how to make her feel better and how to get some sanity for ourselves. We all three fell into bed within about an hour of each other and I nervously prayed that J would stay asleep while I coughed myself to sleep.

What's the lesson here? I totally agree that parents in general feel pressure to be perfect and, as a result, often do not feel the freedom to be honest about the rough parts. I, however, am experiencing the opposite: I feel hesitant to gush about the great parts because I don't want it to appear fake or sugar coated, and I don't want to alienate others who might not be feeling great about it. Still, I think honesty is the key here, and honesty about the bliss is as important as honesty about the crap, right? So here is my truth:  Parenting is the best, most fulfilling, most important thing I've ever done. I LOVE it. I rarely get tired of Baby J and I feel like I have a fantastic balance between parenting and other work. I also have a fantastic parenting partner that makes parenting a lot easier and more enjoyable. Even though breastfeeding turned into a joke, and we've been to the pediatrician four times already, and we have yet to reach full agreement on the best choices for childcare, and the medical bills may never get paid, and crying myself to sleep has been a regular part of my week for the past 3 months, and I'm in the worst physical shape of my life…I LOVE it. I waited a long time to do this, and I love the simplicities of an everyday normal little life. I really, really do.