Monster Mom

A new book is out called "The Monster Within: The Hidden Side of Motherhood." Written by Barbara Almond, it explores the ambivalence mothers feel towards the role. Too bad it conjures images of Charlize Theron's Oscar-winning turn as serial murderer Aileen Wuornos. According to the review I read, the book also draws parallels to "Frankenstein." The gist of what the author is saying is that all mothers experience negative feelings toward their children to one degree or another. Newsflash! Ask any mother changing a colicky baby's soiled diaper while her two-year-old screams for attention and you'll get the same response. Or any mom whose dealt with a recalcitrant, irritable teenager in the throes of hormonal turmoil. The truth is your children can drive you stark raving mad and anyone who tells you otherwise is likely to be childless or a liar.

My disaffection with motherhood began about the time I brought one of my sons home from the hospital and spent the first night, all night, rocking and nursing him to no avail. I did endless rounds of "Go Tell Aunt Rhody" and lowered him ever so gingerly into the crib, only to watch in horror as his eyes popped open again. I thought I'd given birth to a congenital speed freak. By the time he was three, my oldest was five and I was pregnant with a third, I pasted a print ad in my journal that read "The stress the average mother faces would bring most executives to their knees." Before I had children I thought I knew about anger, resentment, frustration and rage. Then I became a mother.

Losing sleep, denying oneself, sacrifice, these are the trade-offs inherent in the adventure of mothering. I mean adventure in the sense of a Mt. Everest climber gasping for oxygen in the ascent, having to return to base camp and realizing she may never make it to the top. The goal is elusive, the journey the most arduous undertaking on the planet. Yet the rewards are plentiful. Granted, they often come tucked into tiny corners or socked away in a drawer, but they come. Tomorrow night my youngest child will be at the taping of a local TV show for whiz kids. Today my middle son will log in another eight hours as an office manager paid a handsome salary, especially in the current economic gloom. My oldest just took part in a presentation that "blew away" a professor who couldn't believe he was a first year grad student. When they were younger I had days when I said, "Just shoot me." Now I'm glad I didn't pull the trigger, that I stuck around for the second act. I've been magnanimous and I've been monstrous, and that, sisters, is just the nature of the gig.