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| LifeTakes |

Horizontal Motherhood

I can and I will still be a mother. Even from the couch

I vacillate between feeling guilty and relieved.

I’m on the couch again and the kids need me.

I feel frustration, I feel shame. But most of all I just feel tired.

I’m lying down, drained of all energy, limited in mobility.

The kids are whining, asking me to prepare their sandwiches, find their uniform shirts. Mommy, can you turn on the bath for me? What are you making for dinner? We were supposed to go shopping today. Aren’t we going to the park? Remember to iron my shirt for Rosh Chodesh, please!

So many of these physically straining tasks aren’t even on my radar screen, let alone a priority. The reality is that there are so many things I can’t do at the moment.

But if I search inside and think logically, as my level-headed self knows how to do, I’ll concede that there are so many things I can do.

I can and I will still be a mother. Even from the couch.

I can do this. Somehow, though the fatigue is overpowering, I will do this. Somehow, I’ll figure out how to be there for them, even as I take care of my own needs.

Focus, I tell myself. Focus on what you are able to do. Give them whatever little strength you have and let them feel loved despite your limitations.

And so, I develop a new style of parenting: horizontal mothering. It may happen during the first trimester of pregnancy or the third. It may be required because I’m post-surgery, or I have a stomach bug, or it’s just a regular day of feeling weak, in desperate need of resting my aching feet.

But no matter the reason, I know with certainty that there’s a way to be not just a good mom — but a great one — from a horizontal position. And I’m the proof.

I kiss boo-boos, I divide treats into bags. I read storybooks, I even buckle little shoes. I play doctor (I’m the patient). I help with math homework, I sign permission slips. I reach down and roll a ball back and forth with my toddler. I play Simon Says, 20 Questions, I Spy. I listen to stories from their day, discuss the worries in their heart. I stroke a cheek, brush hair, trade knock-knock jokes.

I can accomplish so much from exactly where I am.

I can be a mother while on the couch — or in bed — and I won’t feel bad or less competent because of it. In fact, from my sideways vantage point, I start to feel genuinely connected to my children. I’m present, and I’m not rushing anywhere. I’m calm and mindful and attentive.

The realization is stunning. This is even better than my usual! When I’m up and I’m on top of my game, I may be doing all the things they’ve asked me to do, checking things off the to-do list, organizing all the details.

But have I really connected, looked into their eyes and listened with a full heart? Have I empathized, validated, patiently listened to every word? I fear the answer is one I’m not proud of.

As a health coach, I tout the power of having a mantra. I personally have many, though they change from time to time. My position on the couch calls for a new one. I think and think and think some more, until it comes to me. It’s a quote I’ve heard many times, but it has new meaning now: there’s no way to be a perfect mother, but a million ways to be a good one.

We can all put our own creative twist on the way we mother. And even if our style doesn’t fit our preconceived image of the quintessential parent, even if the kids detail every way we’ve failed them, even as there are so many responsibilities we may have to skip or delegate or do halfway — a horizontal mother is still a mother.

 

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 821)

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