Germinal writings on parenting multiples
I’m proud to be included among Travel Savvy Mom’s Top 10 Stories for 2008.
Check out “Fair Play” and nine others here.
And happy travels for 2009.
A few weeks ago, I read about slow blogging in the NY Times and the Mail and Guardian. I meant to write a post on my thoughts, but am only getting to it now. That, I suppose, is slow blogging.
I’m not a fast or impulsive writer and, honestly, have little patience for the minutiae recorded in many blogs. I like finely crafted words. I like “ly”s on adverbs. I agree that “not all things worth reading are written quickly,” and more generally that not all things worth doing are done quickly. I’ve followed the Slow Food movement for years - our wedding was, in fact, a delicious slow food event.
So the idea of slow blogging is appealing and a relief. I don’t know how Pagerank or Google work, although I do check my blog stats. I’ve resigned myself to being one of millions of blogs that will always be out there in the long tail. How many Canadian-enviro-writer-mothers-of-twins-living-in-Africa are there? I could blog twice a day, but I have a few other things happening in my life and in my brain - and not all are worth sharing with the world.
There is, however, something to be said for writing in the moment. It’s what makes blogging different from essay-writing or even journalism. Keeping a “web-log” does imply tracking things more or less as they happen and as the blogger responds to them.
For some topics, such as parenting or depression, this alters the content profoundly from what might be composed days later, with a cool, clear mind. Parenting, especially of toddlers, is all about reacting in the moment; how one moment - and one reaction - leads to the next until all those tiny snippets have formed your day. There is much to be learned from reading those snippets.
But it’s possible, I think, to write in the present without striving to write in the instant, churning out drivel to keep stats up, or worse, losing the moment completely because you’re busy spinning your children’s childhood into a blog post.
I recently watched a Ted talk by psychologist Jonathan Haidt. Provocatively, he claims to have uncovered deep-seated moral differences between liberals and conservatives.
Liberals are generally more open – to diversity, novelty and experience. They are willing, Haidt says, to accept a certain amount of chaos in exchange for making the world a better place for everyone. A liberal morality emphasizes fairness and care.
Conservatives, on the other hand, are generally less open. They like familiarity, institutions and tradition. They value order, even at the expense those people “at the bottom” as Haidt puts it. While conservatives, like liberals, are concerned with fairness and care, they also include loyalty, respect for authority, and purity (of spirit, body etc.) as part of their moral code.
This was a twenty minute talk on a very complex topic so many questions went unanswered. Nevertheless, Haidt claims to back up his findings with surveys of over 30,000 people across the world. At the very least, it’s an interesting way to think about political differences.
Coincidently, I’m now reading The Maternal is Political. It’s a collection of personal essays by women who became politically active, or deepened their political commitments, after having children. The book is very US-centered and “political” for the most part means Democrat. (I haven’t finished the book, however; perhaps some new mothers became Republican.)
Reading this book, I’m persuaded that motherhood is essentially liberal: it foments a compulsion to make the world better for everyone, and therefore better for your kids. It creates an openness, in Haidt’s terms, to change, diversity, necessary chaos, and a certain amount of risk-taking in the name of a better future.
But I can imagine how motherhood might push toward the other end of the political spectrum if it meant that your kids are better off - toward loyalty (to family), toward order and familiarity, toward deference to authority figures (such as doctors).
So here’s my question as elections loom in both the US and Canada (and South Africa):
Has motherhood made you more liberal or more conservative – or more of something else?
I read this book with a twinge of nostalgia – and nausea.
My twins have now outgrown all-night breast-bottle feedings, infant bouts of inexplicable crying and multiple poops a day. The toddler years are not exactly peaceful, but that sickening sleep deprivation and round-the-clock care of the first year is over. Reading Twin Set brought back both the difficulties of those first few months as well as the sheer amazement of giving birth to, and caring for two tiny twins.
Twin Set is a practical guide to pregnancy, birth and the first years of parenting twins. The book doesn’t aim to be a comprehensive guide to parenting in general. If you want details on prenatal care, breastfeeding or toilet training, you’ll have to supplement with other books. But Twin Set does a good job of highlighting differences between parenting twins and parenting singletons. And as mothers of twins know, almost everything is different: pregnancy, birth, post-natal care (both for you and the babies), feeding, bathing, getting out of the house, discipline, starting school – and everything in between.
The best part of this book is that the advice is not simply the authors’ opinion but was gathered through a survey. According to the introduction, the authors surveyed 300 mothers of twins “from around the country” (presumably the US). The scientist in me wanted to know much more about this survey: how it was conducted; what questions were asked; how the mothers were chosen etc. Still, there is wisdom among 300 mothers, and that shows in the book.
Twin Set would be most useful for parents about to give birth to twins. No one is reading just after the birth, and within a year or so you will have figured it all out anyway. But for the parents-to-be there are many useful insights: just how difficult bathing two slippery, crying infants can be; the importance of recording all feeding and pooping in the first few months because you’ll forget who did what and when; that grocery shopping will never be as quick and easy, partly because most shopping carts have only one kid’s seat.
I do have a couple of gripes with the book.
The information is very (although implicitly) US-centered. Some things, like a “Snap ‘N Go” or leaving your kids in the car while you run back to the house, may not make sense outside America.
I also got tired of the book’s cutesy language and general dumbing-down. Consultant pediatricians, for instance, are called “Mommy Doc” and “Daddy Doc”. Really, we can handle a real name and title! And I’ve yet to meet a mother who would spend precious alone-time getting a manicure or doing word-puzzles.
My biggest gripe was with the book’s slant on the environment. Buying bottled water by the case-load (or at all) is simply irresponsible. Trying filtering. And, sorry, teaching your kids to play with empty toilet rolls does not negate thousands of disposable diapers in the land fill. Yes, there is debate on cloth versus disposable diapers (see The Great Disposable Diaper Debate) but telling parents to just “stop worrying” rather than make a conscious and informed decision seems, again, irresponsible (as is failing to disclose Twin Sets partnership with Pampers!).
Gripes aside, this is a useful and realistic book for parents embarking on the head-spinning adventure of raising multiples.
(Thanks to Random House for the review copy.)
