Talking Back

"I think they got together for physical reasons," my friend says, discussing the marriage of a mutual acquaintance. "You know," she whispers, cupping a hand around her mouth. "SEX."
Instinctively, I glance around. The children are halfway down the block, in happy pursuit of the ice cream truck. We are, for all intents and purposes, two grown women alone.
Why are we whispering?
After nearly 37 years on the planet, two children and eight years of marriage, I believe I've earned the right to say the word SEX out loud. Just like I believe that, on occasion, there is simply no substitute for a four-letter word. Not only have I learned that you can be a mother and still retain your identity as a woman, but I believe it is essential.
To be clear, I'm not talking about "letting it all hang out" - that repugnantly self-obsessed hedonism masquerading as honesty familiar to anyone who has ever watched a daytime talk show.
I am talking about not relinquishing your self to your role as mother, and not falling into the trap of believing that a good mother is one who lives her life above reproach. You see them everywhere. Women with their sexless bobs and pressed shirts, their flawless makeup and sensible shoes corralling children through parks and restaurants, struggling to keep the tension out of their perfectly modulated voices. Women who have sanitized their personalities to within an inch of their life, until they are as edgy as a G-rated movie. These are women who have forgotten what it is like to ride a bike without a helmet, or walk alone through their neighborhood on a summer night. Without shoes. Clutching a glass of wine. They've forgotten because they are Mom now. And Mom doesn't do those kind of things anymore.
It is not that I find motherhood oppressive. Rather, it feels liberating, as though my most authentic self was born the day my first child came into the world. But sometimes the culture of motherhood is oppressive. Because the truth is, it is not my children who expect me to tow the imaginary line. It is the other mothers.
I remember being at a birthday party last year for a friend of my daughter's, a little boy who was turning six. It was a perfectly pleasant party - a refreshingly low-budget affair at a neighborhood park, and I was (gasp!) actually sort of enjoying myself. At least until I tuned into the conversation going on across the table. Two mothers were discussing the imminent release of "The Simpsons Movie," and it was clear from their tone that both of them were vehemently opposed to seeing the movie. Let me be clear - they were not discussing whether it was appropriate viewing for their young children, they were talking about whether they should see it themselves.
"I heard there is a scene where Bart appears naked," one said, with clear disapproval in her voice.
I'd heard this too, and as a fan of the show I thought it sounded like a riot. But I realize humor is, by and large, a personal thing. But that's the thing. These women weren't objecting to the humor, they were objecting to the idea of a cartoon character appearing naked. It was, as the other mother said, in very poor taste.
"I don't think the world needs to see Bart's wee-wee."
It is hard to imagine that the sight of an animated "wee-wee" could possibly be shocking to women who have borne children. Harder still to imagine conjuring up actual indignation over such a thing - or reaching your mid-40's without being able to laugh at yourself.
What I've found is that, however rigid other mothers can be, my children are much more forgiving. Most of the time, I am allowed to be "me" and not just "Mom." Or maybe it is just that I've chosen to live where the two intersect - a place where Me and Mom are interchangeable.Because for my children, Mom is a woman who tends to their needs, but also has dreams and desires, lazy days and happy days, days where things feel a little too small and the only antidote is to take my own brightest self and color outside the lines a little. Because I've come to realize that it is not my job to shield my kids from the world - it is my job to reveal it to them. To stand at the shore with my children securely at my side, pointing out both the wonders and the dangers of the sea in the way only a person can when she has spent a lifetime navigating its waters.

Posted by River at 4:46 PM ?blogID=2829606703734707556&postID=1014443605001357319" ?blogID=2829606703734707556&postID=1014443605001357319"