Mother's Day Redux

Sunday was Mother's Day and I was joined by my sons, newly returned from a 17 month journey through Australasia.  It was wonderful.  Having them back is a gift. They bring meaning to my life in a way no one else can.  This obvious truth was patently present during their absence.  Being a mom is a wonderful thing.  It may not be for everyone but, for me, it has changed my life for the better.

My mother was an incredibly loving person.  She rarely judged anyone, let alone me. Other people didn't seem to bother her.  I am grateful for her loving hand.  Were it not for her, I might be exactly like my dad: judgmental, outspoken, sometimes quite rude.  As it is, I always have hope I may temper those dominant qualities with her gentle approach.

I miss her more than I can say.

Practice Babies

When I became a first time mother at the tender age of 35, I didn't know beans about how to care for a kid. I'd never baby sat or worked with little children, nor did I have younger siblings to raise.  My three years younger brother was too close in age and my mother would never have left me with him.  All we did was fight.

I had no idea what to do with my new baby. I was thrilled but clueless. Dr. Spock became my go-to guru after I wore out my welcome with day and night phone calls to the nurses at the hospital where I'd delivered. Hell, they had to put my son on my breast and teach me how to get him to latch on. That was  painful.

And I thought motherhood came naturally.                   

It doesn't.

Imagine my surprise when I learned that, once upon a time, there were "practice babies" borrowed by colleges for their domestic classes for young women. The babies were routinely borrowed from orphanages and given to a small group of young women, housed in a practice setting, to help them prepare for parenthood. This was commonly done between 1919-1969. I took an early "Women's Studies" class in 1973 and I'm shocked we weren't told of this practice. Oh the ridicule it would have received.

My local NPR station aired a podcast about this today and if you want to know more, take a listen. It's only 8 minutes and is fascinating.

I can honestly say, in retrospect, I wish they'd had these classes when I was in college.  It would have saved me a great deal of grief. 

Trouble is, I would have been too smug and/or stupid to take one.