Not so when you were an irresponsible hippie for your first kid and a married professional with your second. And not so when your kids belong to different generations. My daughter is squarely in Generation Y, she fits it like a glove. My son ... ? Will they have a Generation Z when he comes of age? Who knows? My husband thinks Jericho's generation will be the one that must address the fall of civilization as we know it -- and he's jealous. (I'll get to my husband in another post.)
But the biggest problem I have mothering across generations is that I must change hats -- actually, more than hats -- states of mind, biological foci, intellectual capacity, rules, language, everything -- when I switch from one kid to the next. I mean, I'm with Jericho most of the time. Mothering him basically entails nursing, rocking him, singing to him, walking with him in the stroller, trying to get him to sleep, nursing, soothing him, getting stuff done in a flurry while he sleeps, napping, nursing, showing him off. That's about it. We obviously don't have deep conversations yet. Or if we do, they're pretty one sided.
Jade is my intellectual equal; actually, she's way smarter, more articulate, more well-read, and far more capable than I. Mothering her mostly entails keeping up. She schools me more than I school her. I try to be a sounding board and support system, when she needs it. And she only needs mothering once in a while and, in those cases, it's immediate and acute and temporary.
That doesn't mesh well with the steady white-noise of mothering an infant. It's hard to drop everything when necessary. It's hard to focus on a conversation. It's hard to change hats.
Jade and Jericho at Mother's Day brunch.
The closest I've gotten, so far, is on Mother's Day, when my husband took Jericho to his mom's house for dinner. Jade and I went to yoga by train and also went shopping. It was wonderful. But it was bittersweet, because I know how rare such occasions now have become.
It was the longest I've been apart from Jericho -- 4 1/2 hours. But it felt like an instant. And it felt inadequate. And while, in the coming months and years, I'll be able to talk to Jade on the phone or by email and see her during visits, life as we knew it is over. I am no longer just her mom. I am Jericho's mom and must consciously change hats to be her mom for those times when she wants me or needs me to.
Awww, so glad you and Jadel had some time together.
ReplyDeleteI remember that painful realization that the relationship with the older child was irrevocably altered simply by being the mother of a new person. and trying to be all things to both kids. Ian had his third grade science fair when Dom was not quite 24 hours old, so I went with Dom in a snuggly on my chest. and there were many, many sports events I spent trying to keep Dom from first crawling onto the field, and later toddling out to hug his brother. and when Dom was a little older, Ian began to attend his preschool holiday shows, and the strength of their relationship has been the real gift to witness. I guess my point is that you have given Jade something really important as well as losing the exclusivity of your bond.
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