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Published On: Aug 25, 2004 09:37 PM
Total entries in this category:
Published On: Aug 25, 2004 09:37 PM
Self-Absorption
Can you be introspective and not bore everyone to
death?
The gaps of time between blog entries are
growing. I'm not sure if this is just a natural phenomenon, initial excitement
wearing off, or if I'm more exhausted after a day with my children, or if it's
just that we have had a lovely vacation in NM and this week is a short lull
between my parents leaving and Raven's brother arriving, with my sister's
arrival anticipated shortly after his departure, and how can it be, school
starting the week after. I am never satisfied with dashing off a short
paragraph, though I suppose I could use an editor since I seldom have more than
a good paragraph's thought.
Another thing going on is that I've been reading a few mommy memoirs, which I'm grateful to read -- it's always reassuring to know that you're not the only person feeling the things you're feeling and experiencing what you're experiencing, and these things are often written with just a bit of humor, which is, for me, an essential tool in dealing with the overwhelming. And it's great thinking of these women making careers of writing while caring for their young children. A friend who writes had expressed reservations about even attempting another parenting memoir because it has been done so many times, but I think every perspective has something unique to it, and the more voices singing of the joy, the frustration, and the exhaustion, the humor and the anguish, and the tenderness and the tedium, well the better the chance that there will be greater understanding of what this motherhood business is about, and perhaps that understanding will turn into some sort of respect which is more than just lip service.
Except... a small part of me is put off in some way by something about some of these books, and I feel desperately guilty saying so, because this whole industry of bluestocking, funny, original, talented mommies writing for others the same -- I could tap into it, I'm sure, and it does keep me sane some days. It's partly that I am not sure that the non-mommies would pick any of this to read, and that's ok, we all have our own taste. But I know that when we were looking to buy our first home, I wanted to read about houses and think about houses and talk about houses. The home and garden channel on cable was like porn, and I still have a few dog-eared home design magazines. And then we bought a house and I promptly lost interest. Each time I was pregnant, birth stories were the ultimate bonding experience, and the television shows tracking pregnant women... again, like porn or something.
I just have this sense that this very important aspect of who I am is a little temporary. Now I have elementary school mother friends and we share certain interests, talking about strategies for helping our elementary school aged kids, and what's going on at the school, and I have preschool mom friends and we bond in a different way, commiserating or laughing over the very weird things preschoolers are capable of, and I have my baby mom friends and another set of bonds, based much on the intensity of life with an infant, the demands, the uncertainty as we forge relationships with these shiny new small people. I am so grateful for all of these friends and the support we get and give each other. But you might look at my life and think I was only capable of being friends with someone who was just like me.
I registered early on that good writing taps into a universal experience -- that any reader can connect with, and a particular perspective -- that the writer's unique capturing renders it fresh and interesting. And I don't write with a lot of thought to who will be reading what I write or even try to worry more than I can help it about whether it is good writing or not. I do wrestle still with why I write -- morning pages, as the ultimate indulgence in self-absorption and paying attention to the inside of my own head, seem to make all of the listening and paying attention to my children the rest of the day a little easier. I don't think that level of endless fascination with hearing my own voice makes for good reading. But there are writers who could describe making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a way that would keep me turning pages, and certainly the drama of the struggle in turning into a person who can lead the small people in her care into some of the better things about being human could be worth exploring, so I'll keep trying.
Another thing going on is that I've been reading a few mommy memoirs, which I'm grateful to read -- it's always reassuring to know that you're not the only person feeling the things you're feeling and experiencing what you're experiencing, and these things are often written with just a bit of humor, which is, for me, an essential tool in dealing with the overwhelming. And it's great thinking of these women making careers of writing while caring for their young children. A friend who writes had expressed reservations about even attempting another parenting memoir because it has been done so many times, but I think every perspective has something unique to it, and the more voices singing of the joy, the frustration, and the exhaustion, the humor and the anguish, and the tenderness and the tedium, well the better the chance that there will be greater understanding of what this motherhood business is about, and perhaps that understanding will turn into some sort of respect which is more than just lip service.
Except... a small part of me is put off in some way by something about some of these books, and I feel desperately guilty saying so, because this whole industry of bluestocking, funny, original, talented mommies writing for others the same -- I could tap into it, I'm sure, and it does keep me sane some days. It's partly that I am not sure that the non-mommies would pick any of this to read, and that's ok, we all have our own taste. But I know that when we were looking to buy our first home, I wanted to read about houses and think about houses and talk about houses. The home and garden channel on cable was like porn, and I still have a few dog-eared home design magazines. And then we bought a house and I promptly lost interest. Each time I was pregnant, birth stories were the ultimate bonding experience, and the television shows tracking pregnant women... again, like porn or something.
I just have this sense that this very important aspect of who I am is a little temporary. Now I have elementary school mother friends and we share certain interests, talking about strategies for helping our elementary school aged kids, and what's going on at the school, and I have preschool mom friends and we bond in a different way, commiserating or laughing over the very weird things preschoolers are capable of, and I have my baby mom friends and another set of bonds, based much on the intensity of life with an infant, the demands, the uncertainty as we forge relationships with these shiny new small people. I am so grateful for all of these friends and the support we get and give each other. But you might look at my life and think I was only capable of being friends with someone who was just like me.
I registered early on that good writing taps into a universal experience -- that any reader can connect with, and a particular perspective -- that the writer's unique capturing renders it fresh and interesting. And I don't write with a lot of thought to who will be reading what I write or even try to worry more than I can help it about whether it is good writing or not. I do wrestle still with why I write -- morning pages, as the ultimate indulgence in self-absorption and paying attention to the inside of my own head, seem to make all of the listening and paying attention to my children the rest of the day a little easier. I don't think that level of endless fascination with hearing my own voice makes for good reading. But there are writers who could describe making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a way that would keep me turning pages, and certainly the drama of the struggle in turning into a person who can lead the small people in her care into some of the better things about being human could be worth exploring, so I'll keep trying.
Posted: Tue - August 5, 2003 at 10:54 PM