They wrote a book about my life

Confessions of a Slacker Mom

Newsweek has an interview with the author and an essay on the topic by Anna Quindlen. (via Ex-Donkey)

I must admit that, while my housekeeping slackerness is entirely my own choice, my child-rearing slackerness is enforced by my daughter. In her first three years, she was violently shy. Should a stranger deign to look at her or, God forbid, address her, she would scream bloody murder. She startled more than one well-meaning old lady in the supermarket. Play groups were just not going to happen. Gymboree - forget it. Church nursery - pleeese.

She's progressed a lot in the past year, but I still wouldn't want to plunk down the money for a class she may or may not participate in.

But, as a stay-at-home mom, I can relate to the need to justify one's existence. On one hand, having a special needs child provides a built in justification for staying home. Day care would have been impossibly hard on my sensitive little one. But on the other hand, there's the feeling that you should always be doing something to help her catch up or branch out. And if she hasn't caught up, well then, you must not be doing it right.

Of course, if I worked out of the home, then I'd feel people were thinking her problems stemmed from languishing in daycare.

I guess only the mother can protect herself from parenting anxiety by assuming a less defensive posture. Easier said than done, I know. But consider this: nearly half of the people in this country and most of the rest of the world think my politics are dead wrong. I couldn't care less. Someone came to my blog and called me simple-minded. Whatever. It may be annoying, but I wouldn't even dream of being wounded. Who are they? A bunch of people who are wrong, that's who!

Why is it nearly impossible to take that attitude towards parenting. I suppose it's because I am personally responsible for my kid, whereas I'm just one of millions voting for the president . Also, my kid means more to me than politics.

But I try to remember that another mother isn't trying to suggest anything about my parenting skills when she talks about little Bobby's amazing talent on the violin or whatnot. Our kids are so central to our lives that it's just natural to talk about them a lot.

Hey, maybe one of the blessings of having a challenging child is that there is no way in hell we could get everything done. My life is so far from June Cleaver's that there's no reason to even try to keep up. I have already been forced to consider my daughter's need (and my own), and jettison most non-necessities. I've already prioritized, so when someone mentions another enrichment activity they're taking the kids to, I automatically know whether that's something my daughter could handle. Usually, it's not, so there's no pressure to add it.

Whew. Blogging - better than therapy.