Not Bright Enough to Marry?

For 17-year old Kerry Robertson, what stands in her way to marriage and motherhood is her learning disabilities. Social workers already canceled her wedding to her 25-year old fiance Mark McDougall 2 days before the church ceremony. The Fife Council where Robertson lives feels that her learning disabilities render her incapable of understanding the institution of matrimony. Under such circumstances, according to Scottish Law, authorities have the right to refuse sanctioning a marriage. Her age is not a factor here because the minimum legal age for getting married is the UK is 16. Although some places require written consent from guardians of those under 18, this is not the case in Scotland where Robertson lives. Besides, Robertson’s guardian is her grandmother who doesn’t oppose the nuptials.

Not Bright Enough to be a Mother?

Robertson’s lack of mental capacity to comprehend marriage also extends to her understanding of motherhood, the authorities say. She won’t therefore be allowed to keep her baby boy after her delivery in January next year as she lacks the mental capacity to take of the baby. What about the father of the child? He, too, is not deemed eligible to keep the baby boy because he’s not legally married to Robertson in the first place.

Social Legislation Gone Awry?

To be fair, social legislations are in place to protect those who need protection. But how far should the authorities meddle in people’s affairs on the grounds of benevolence and protection?

In halting the marriage, the social services feel they are protecting Robertson from getting into something that she might do her more harm than good, something she might regret later. Well, tell that to millions of people who entered matrimony and got out again, many via messy divorces.

In taking away the baby from his mother, the social services feel they are protecting the baby. The baby will be placed in an institution and put up for adoption. Would the social institution prove to be a better alternative to a mother who wants and loves him?

What’s Social Services Have to Say?

The authorities say they cannot divulge all the details that made them reach their decisions for confidentiality reasons. However, according to a spokesperson, they try to “balance risk and welfare while supporting people at times of personal or family need.” Platitude or genuine concern?

What the Couple Has to Say

According to Robertson and her fiance, Robertson’s learning disabilities are “mild”. She can read and write and she is “loving and caring” and “enjoys being pregnant. They already named the unborn baby boy Ben.

Social Services Mean Well But…

We may never know everything about this affair or hear what the full truth from both sides. But we know for sure that this isn’t the first time nor last time that social services or child protection authorities interfere with people’s lives for the “right” reasons. In most cases they succeed. Think about how many children are rescued from their abusive parents each year. But in some cases they fail.

Take the following cases:

• A teenager who committed sexual offenses was placed by social services in a foster family in Wales who wasn’t informed of his personal history. He sexually abused the family’s two young children. In protecting the teenage boy, social services failed to protect the foster family.

• In the US, a 5-year old girl and her younger sister were taken away from their birth mother and placed in a foster family. The 5-year old was found dead in the foster family’s cellar. She was restrained in a high chair with duct tape and died of asphyxiation. The foster mother was a respected case worker at Maine Department of Human Services.

• More painful is the plight of Australia’s stolen generation wherein aborigine children were taken away from their parents to be raised in a “civilized” way.

Do you think social services have the right to stop Robertson’s marriage?

To take away the baby from parents who want him?

Eighteen months after giving birth to her daughter Jada, Kim Clijsters is back in the tennis circuit, fitter and better. The funny thing is, the Belgian tennis Mama, who used to be the world number 1 and winner of several titles, entered the US Open tournament without a ranking (a real wildcard) after a 2-year hiatus that included marriage (she is married to American basketball star Brian Lynch) and maternity. She is now up from nothing to 19^th in WTA rankings, beating Venus and Serena Williams to win the US Open woman’s title.

Mother and Champion?

At the beginning of the year, Clijsters was just a mom of a 1-year old toddler and a has-been tennis star. She decided to come out of retirement and return to the WTA tour in March when she went for an exhibition match in Wimbledon. The 2009 US Open is just Clijsters 3^rd tournament since her comeback in August this year.

Clijsters is 26 years old, not that young by tennis’ standards but still young enough to make it back to the top. However, going back to professional tennis after childbirth is not easy. Tell that to the likes of Chris Evert Lloyd and Lindsay Davenport. According to CBC sports, Clijsters is the first mother to win a major title in almost 30 years. The last tennis Mommy to do this was the Australian Evonne Goolagong Cawley who won in Wimbledon in 1980.

Clijsters herself was not sure how she could manage things on and off court, including traveling with a baby. With this title, she proved to herself and to the world that it is possible to be a mom and a champion at the same time.

Naptimes and matches

According to Telegraph UK, part of Clijsters’ preparation for her final match was to arrange her daughter’s naptime schedule so the little one could watch her Mommy play. Sounds familiar?

This really paid off because little Jada was in real good spirits and delighted the crowd as she shared the center court (and eventually upstaged) her mom! But tennis Mama didn’t mind. She had 2 trophys – the silver cup and her daughter – and she knew which one was the most precious.

For Clijsters, it’s back to nappy changing, playdates, and naptime schedule till her next major – the Australian Open in early 2010.

Fatherhood and tennis

Fatherhood, on the other hand, never seemed to have stopped male tennis players from pursuing a career. Think of John McEnroe and Andrei Agassi. It definitely wasn’t a hurdle for Roger Federer who became “double” dad to twin girls last July although he lost the US Open finals to the Argentinian Juna Martin del Potro.

I read this article entitled “Sorry, But My Children Bore Me To Death” when it was first published back in 2006, when my son was only a couple of months old. The author talks about how she preferred to work when her children were young to avoid spending time with them, and recruited nannies to take her sons to birthday parties and other events so she could avoid other mothers talking about potty training, instead going shopping for designer clothes or having her hair highlighted.

I agree that a lot of things about motherhood are boring.

Newborns aren’t that scintillating. They don’t do a whole lot except eat, sleep and poop. I spent a lot of time holding him and stroking his sleeping head and marveling at how beautiful he was. I also spent a lot of time nursing him and I read every book in my house and OD’d on Days of our Lives and wondered if I would ever do anything exciting again.

Children and babies aren’t born understanding the concept that anyone else has emotions or needs or interests other than their own. What they are interested in is all that matters. And babies love to do the same thing over and over (and over and over and over) again. Because practice makes perfect, and they get such a kick over their accomplishments they like to repeat it. No matter how much you love your child, watching them put megabloks into a shoebox and taking them out and putting them back and… gets old quick.  Luckily no-one stops you being there and keeping your baby company and talking on the phone, making a shopping list or doing some housework in the same room.

Toddlers and older kids tend to insist that you watch (mommeeeeee look at meeeeeee!) or participate, and they get cross if you do something else. Yes, you are expected to pretend to be an alien and hide behind the couch some more. And you have to admire the construction project made from random objects taped together.

And children’s events can be soul destroying for adults. Last weekend there was a free play for children, from a local theater company, all about frogs. My son loves frogs so he put on his frog rain boots and frog hat and took a plastic frog and off we went. Toddler sat at the front, and gazed at the stage, rapt. I sat on the seats with the other parents and we all would have fallen asleep if not for the zingy musical numbers and zany sound effects.

So back to the article. Do I agree with the mother who wrote it? I do think that aspects of motherhood can be dull, but overwhelmingly being a mom is a wonderful thing and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

And it does go both ways. Us parents make our children do plenty of things that they think are boring, like helping with the laundry, and sitting in the car for 30 minutes when we drive across town to run errands.

Mothers who spend the time to get to know their children (i.e. most of us) and play with them discover that they are fascinating little creatures with plenty of personality almost from when they are born, and they only get more interesting as they grow and develop. We take delight in a first smile, first coo, first step, first letter written, first trike ridden. My son is the funniest person I know. I love his surreal toddler conversations. I love the concentration he has on his lego projects. I love his random bizarre ideas for what he’s going to do next.

So some children’s activities are boring, I’m sorry, Kindermusik, your classes put me to sleep, and doing a six piece jigsaw puzzle over and over again isn’t my idea of fun, but I couldn’t imagine thinking my son was boring at all.

I feel sorry for the children in the article. What must they think when they read it? I can only imagine that when their mom is old and if she needs care herself, they’ll think she’s too boring to look after.

I scared myself stupid tonight. Recently I got into rock climbing, and since I live in Minnesota where it is 1. rather flat 2. currently under 6 inches of snow I’ve been doing it indoors in a climbing gym. Most indoor climbing is called “top roping” where a rope is attached to the climber, attached to the ceiling, and down to a belayer. The belayer is a person who holds the rope and catches the climber if they fall. The most you can fall is maybe two feet. So I’ve been doing that for a while, and it’s fun. And it’s mentally and physically challenging, it’s a decidedly non-mom activity, and it’s giving me fierce arm muscles.

But, I want to be more fierce. The most interesting kind of climbing is called “lead climbing“. If you wants to climb upsidedown under an arch, or up a 40 degree overhang,  or anything more interesting than a plain vertical wall, you need to take your rope up with you and attach it to bolts on the rock (or gym wall) to catch your fall if you fall off. It’s more complicated, and also more scary. The bolts on the wall are around five feet apart. Imagine falling off just before you reach the next bolt – there’s a five foot fall plus another five feet of rope plus another couple of feet of slack and the rope that pays out before the belayer catches you, so that’s a 12-15 foot plus fall. And that’s probably starting 30 feet off the ground and with nothing but a little metal bolt to catch you.

So I take a lead climbing class, and to pass the class, I have to take a lead fall which I think is to demonstrate that I am not a wuss but is actually to learn how to fall correctly. That’s one of those 15 feet kinds, starting 30 feet up, with a rope tied to my waist, nothing above me, and relying on the guy standing on the ground with the other end of the rope to catch me in time. I start shimming up the wall. I get most of the way up and clip the rope onto the last bolt I can use in the test. Now I have to climb up another six feet and let go. My shimmying turns to clinging onto the wall with shaking fingers and advancing very slowly.  I’m at the drop point and look down. It’s a long way down. My fingers tell me this is a stupid idea.

My belayer seems to be holding the rope, I’ve seen other people do this and so far, they’ve all survived. It’s still a really long way down. To cut a long story short, I didn’t do it with any kind of glamor, or style, and it took a little coaching yelling from those on terra firma but I let go. I plummet down about 15 feet in free fall which is just enough of a drop to wonder if I’ll stop, before I stop and all the bolts in the wall clang and everyone else in the gym turns around to have a look at who fell off.

And I started thinking. Are moms braver, or less brave than non-moms? Are we more likely or less likely to take chances? Do we have less fear or more fear?

To answer that for myself, I think my assessment of risks has changed. I’m more fearful for my child. I see peril everywhere that non-parents don’t. Tall, wobbly, furniture that might tip over. Unguarded outlets. Swimming pools.  I try to manage fear of danger versus never letting my son do anything but when he starts climbing on the furniture it always makes me nervous. Before I became a mom, I would have concerns for a child’s safety, but I couldn’t imagine all the things that I would worry about.

And for me, I think I’m much less scared of things that are common fears, but aren’t actually dangerous, or not that dangerous. Like I’m a shy person, but now I’m much less scared of talking to new people. Or climbing 30 feet up a wall and letting go.  Or having 100 other people turn around and look at me. In relation to the worry I have over my son, these things just don’t seem as scary any more.

And I’m more scared of doing things that are actually dangerous, like walking by myself at night in a strange neighborhood, or talking on the phone and fiddling with the radio while I’m driving, mostly because I don’t want to be injured or killed and not be there for my son.

How about you? How has motherhood changed the way you view the world?

Just about everyone is finding it harder to make ends meet these days. The cost of groceries, for example, has skyrocketed. With such a high unemployment rate, those of us who are able to earn much needed income are feeling fortunate.

Those of us who write or blog part time for a bit of extra cash and those of us who write as a more essential means of income, are just some of the moms who are juggling full time motherhood with part time work.

My younger sister has a small ballet studio where she teaches several classes a week. She is also mom to 5 and 9 year old girls and an 8 month old baby boy. Her husband works in computer programming and has a busy political career, as well—at 37, he is president of borough council, in the town where they live. It’s amazing to see them juggling it all. My sister teaches ballet with the baby on her hip. My mom sits the girls one night per week but the baby is extremely clingy and goes wherever his mommy goes (even to teach dance lessons!).

My other sister, the youngest of the three of us is mom to a 17 month old son. She loves to sew and bake and is quite good at both. A few years back she had her own baking business; she sold her cakes to several restaurants and at farmer’s markets. She took a break to be full time mom, until recently, when she started to sew little girls’ tu-tus to sell at our other sister’s studio.

I’ve always written on and off but a few years ago, I also had my own little greeting card business. I guess you can say I’m a bit crafty; I used collage techniques, paper-punching and cutting, stamping and some free-hand drawing to create unique cards which I sold at two local businesses. If it weren’t for the baby taking up so much of my time, I’d still be doing this. I may slowly ease my way back into it soon.

A mom in our neighborhood who is a former teacher tutors children in her home. Another woman I know who happens to be an amazing cook started her own catering business.

I am impressed with women who turn their talents into a means of income, and juggle this work with the 24/7 job of motherhood. I’m pretty sure that all of the women writing for this blog are busy balancing their writing with the demands of parenting young children, running a household and more.

When Dara Torres (US), and Constantina Tomescu (Romania) won medals last week in swimming and marathon, respectively, nobody batted an eyelid. Why should they? Many other women like them -Paula Radcliffe (UK, long distance runner) and Lindsay Davenport (US, tennis player), to name a few – have achieved athletic feats not unheard of in this day and age.

What all these women have in common is that they are older than your average competitive sportsperson but are still competing at the Beijing Olympics. At 38, Constantina is the oldest marathon winner in Olympic history while 41-year old Dara is the oldest ever member of the US Olympic swimming team. Paula and Lindsay are both over 30.

And – they are all moms. While many of us juggle between job and kids, these women have to juggle between demanding physical training and kids. That’s the way to go nowadays. No problem.

But let’s go back 60 years and 15 Olympic Games ago in London in 1948 – to the woman who paved the way – Francina Blankers-Koen. This Dutch athlete, better known as “Fanny” had a lot stacked against her. She had to live through the second World War, a time when food was scarce, therefore extra hard for athletes in training. She was a woman at a time when sporting bodies were exclusively male who simply tolerated female athletes. She was 30 years old, a very ripe age in field and track athletics. And – she had two young children during an era when a mother’s place should be at her children’s side and nowhere else. Something that helped through was her determination to succeed and the support of her husband-coach.

War, food shortage, pregnancies, 2 small children – these were not the best ingredients for an athlete’s training. Remember, this was a time when athletes were not allowed to do endorsements or accept any kind of commercial support. While Fanny trained on the track, her kids played in the high-jump area – a perfect sandpit! – according to the Independent. For her unconventional parenting style, Fanny got lots of hate mail – plus the fact that she wore short trousers while training.

Fanny went on to win 4 gold medals in the 1948 London Olympics. She could have won more if not for the Olympic rule at that time than women were limited to competing in 3 individual events only. Public opinion was divided – admiration for her feats and condemnation for shirking on her motherly duties – her youngest was 2 years old during the London games. To show this rather grudging appreciation of her achievements, she was dubbed by the international media as “The Flying Housewife“, “flying” for her athletic prowess and “housewife” to put her in her place.

What even made her story remarkable is the birth of her 3^rd child in 1949 just a few months after she came home victorious from London. She was actually in the very stages of pregnancy during the competition, according to the Independent . Whether she knew about her condition was not clear. At any rate, had her condition been known by the sports authorities, she wouldn’t have been allowed to compete.

Fanny went on to compete in the 1952 Helsinki Olympics. In her time, she set 16 world records in 8 different disciplines. The crowning glory to her amazing athletic career was being voted as the “Female Athlete of the 20th Century” by the International Association of Athletics Federations in 1999.

I did it! I went shopping for some new clothing this weekend, despite my post-baby belly bulge. I received gift cards to Ann Taylor Loft this past Christmas and could wait longer to cash them in for some girly goodies.

Fortunately for us post-partum ladies, empire-waist and baby-doll style tops and dresses are in style right now. They are perfect for hiding a post-pregnancy belly. I found a couple of empire-cut tops in a size that I can wear now, as well as when (or if!) I lose 9 or 10 more pounds by next summer. I also found a cute pair of long denim shorts, in a size that I can comfortably squeeze into, but will fit better once those extra few pounds are gone; I figure this will give me some incentive to keep watching my diet.

Then I had a little fun: I threw in a completely unnecessary pair of big tortoise-shell sunglasses and a cool necklace with a swirly pendant. Of course I don’t need these things but as the mom of three boys, including an eleven week old, I deserve them (right?).

Something very strange and coincidental occurred in that store. I kid you not: I met a woman, shopping with her baby (I left mine at home with my hubby). I asked her how old he is, his name, etc. It turns out that he was born one day-actually just several hours-before our son was born at the same hospital. And his name is Jack, as is our baby’and he is also her third child! Go figure! I should have gotten her phone number so we can get our 11-week old Jacks together to play.

The other ‘Jack’s mom’ looked a bit perplexed as she rifled through the racks of clothing, trying to figure what might flatter her post-baby figure. She struggled with her baby in his infant carrier when he awoke and fussed for a little while.

As I walked out of that store and on the ride home, I couldn’t help but think about how amazing women are-that is, women who are also mothers. That woman recently endured her third labor and birth, tended to her baby 24/7 and struggled with losing her post-baby weight and figure, as all moms do. Many of us go through it more than once. This made me think of the song that goes: ‘I am strong, I am invincible, I am woman?’.

My hat goes off to all of my fellow moms who join me in the toughest job we’ll ever love: motherhood.

One of the most difficult parts of motherhood, at least for me, was and still is, letting go. I guess it`s because as mom of twins, I always have to let go two kids in one go.

The first time was when they were about 6 months old ? when they were left alone with Grandma for a couple of hours so my husband and I could go to the movies. I just ceased breast feeding then for health reasons and could easily take a couple of hours off. I couldn`t remember anything about the film ? not even the title – but I could still recall that very strong feeling of guilt.

When my boys were 12.5 months old, we placed them in a daycare 2 days a week so 1) I can work part-time, and 2) they can socialize with other kids – something quite important for twins. My feelings were indescribable, worsened by the fact that they didn`t seem to suffer from separation anxiety ? as I did. I guess that comes with being twins. As long as they are together, mom`s absence is easier to take.

I must admit that as they grew older, it got easier to let go ? the first babysitter, gym classes, pre-school ? but the feeling of guilt never went away.

This week was another ?letting go? experience. We`ve just came back from a week of winter holidays where my boys attended a so-called ?ski kindergarten? for kids aged 4 to 6. I was torn between giving them the opportunity to learn the sport and worrying about their safety. Will they be fine? What if they fall and hurt themselves badly? What if they had to go to the bathroom (not an easy feat in winter clothes, ski shoes and skis)? What if the bigger kids are mean to them?

On the first day, we, parents, were told what is expected of us:

• Stay for 10 minutes, give a quick goodbye kiss, and go. If we need you, we`ll call you.
• Don`t come running when you see them fall. The ski teachers know what to do and the kids will be taught how to get up.
• Don`t hang around and cheer them on. The less distraction for the kids, the better.
• In other words, go and enjoy yourselves and let us do our job.

So I forced myself to stay away though I must admit I spied on them from a distance from time to time (and I wasn`t the only one). I checked my cell phone every 5 minutes to make sure I didn`t miss a call.

Day after day, I saw my boys fall and struggle to their feet again. I saw how their conquered the snow and the skis and progressed from a little mound to a hillock. On the 5th day, they were waving at me confidently as they slalomed downhill. All is well. Another milestone in their young life, another one in my middle-aged life.

I know I have more ?letting go`s? ahead of me. School trips, slumber parties, camping trips, college, moving out, getting married? Did I say it gets easier? Actually, I don`t think so. I know I will always be torn between letting them find themselves and keeping them to myself, letting them soar and tying them down.

Yes, letting go is hard ? but I think it is one of the best gifts I can give to my kids.

My daughter is now a little over 7 months old and right at the beginning of my favorite age. Well, at least it’s my favorite age thus far in my journey through motherhood.

I absolutely love the 6 months through 18 months stage of babyhood. It’s the age where they are still very much babies and dependent on you, but then, little by little, you watch them gain independence and learn things on their own. There are so many amazing firsts during this time – first tooth, crawling, pulling up, taking those first steps, first words, first haircut. It’s really just such an exciting time.

I can remember all of my son’s firsts like they were all just last week. This time of his life went by so quickly – much quicker than I could have imagined. Now he’s 2 and that is a whole new stage. There are plenty of new discoveries now, but most involve fights of will. (And I know this only gets harder!)

So, I am very excited that my daughter is at the beginning of this age of firsts. She is on the edge of learning to crawl and will only get more mobile with each day, so for now I’m relishing the fact that she’s a stationary sitter. She’s trying new foods and, like her brother, likes most everything. We haven’t seen a tooth peek through yet, so she’s still got that adorable, gummy smile. She’s also really into saying “Mama” and “Dada” and, even though she’s using these words indiscriminately, my husband and I get just as excited as if these were her real first words.

I already realize at this point in my “motherhood” that there’s nothing I will miss more than those firsts of babyhood. So, for the next year I will enjoy my daughter’s firsts, just as I did my son’s. And, just as my son’s did, I’m sure these moments will go by in the blink of an eye. I also know there will be many favorite ages and stages to come in my children’s lives and that, short of stopping time, the best thing I can do is enjoy the beauty and happiness of these moments because they only come around once.