Dealing with big "ouches"

from Mikki

The Choice Mom discussion board this week has been discussing another juicy topic: coping with our children's emotional pain, which was launched by a post about biracial children (more on that in another blog). It coincided with an interview I had with someone this week about how Choice Moms celebrate Father's Day. And my own concern that I have to fly out the day of my daughter's birthday in a few days so that I can do an interview on the PBS all-female news show "To the Contrary."

These three things have in common the syndrome of "Mama pain."

Not to discount the emotional pain our kids do go through, but sometimes we forget to recognize the prism we look through as Mothers who love our children more than anything else. We don't want them to ever feel lonely, or hurt, or lost, or left out, or frozen with fear.

Of course, sometimes they will. As Mom, it's excruciating.

On the front end, before we're mothers, we worry about whether we'll pass our home study, which donor sounds right in the audiotape, which doctor to use. Some of the enlightened who have the option these days plan further ahead, looking for open-identity donors or open birth placement for our as-yet-unknown-children, to help them avoid psychic pain they might otherwise have about their identity.

When they are babies and toddlers, we worry about them falling down, putting things in their mouth that shouldn't be there, the earache that keeps them up at night. And we do our best to deal with their emotional issues: the kid who took the toy away, the fact that mom wants to drag them away from the playground, fear of the dark.

As our kids mature, they struggle with things that are much more emotional and serious...and difficult for Mom to know how to talk through. Why a best friend isn't a friend anymore. The death of a classmate, or grandparent, or dog. What they have in common with an anonymous donor. Why a birth parent placed them for adoption. Achievement anxiety. Not getting picked for a sports team. Being bullied. Being teased. Being left out. Not looking the same as his/her parent, or most of his/her classmates. Not having a father. Having a lesbian parent. Not having as much money as other families at school, and feeling shame. Recognizing that an uncle is an alcoholic, and not understanding it.

The most difficult thing for Mom is to see them struggling -- and know you cannot fix it or make it go away. We can "only" talk with them.

With that talking comes the difficult task of figuring out what it is that actually bothers them. Not clouded by the prism of what does or does not bother Mom.

I was racked with guilt and sorrow at the thought of leaving my daughter behind on her birthday so I could fly somewhere for an interview. I asked her if she wanted to fly with me. She said not if it would cost me money. She also doesn't like the idea of being away from school on her birthday, when friends can acknowledge it with her. Ouch. She's turning nine, and that transition to the importance of friends, compared to family, is right around the corner.

She said she will be sad if I cannot be with her that night after school to celebrate her birthday, but I know she will live with it better than I will. I still vividly remember our first night together on the day she was born. Wanting to look at her all night, and be with her every moment, even though I was exhausted. To her, it is much more about an excuse to have a party.

I think Father's Day is another occasion that might bother some of us, as Moms, more than our kids. It also might bother some of our kids more than it does us. Another important distinction to come into focus in the Mom prism.

A group of Choice Moms I know take their kids camping Father's Day weekend, just to have something special to do. Others honor grandfathers and uncles. Some plan to create reunions with half-siblings, to commemorate their link to the unknown anonymous donor they share. One woman suggests volunteering with the kids at a soup kitchen that day, so they can learn as a family to respect what they have, rather than what they do not.

An interesting idea one Choice-Mom-in-the-making learned from another single parent is to celebrate with a son the Father that he might become someday: collecting stories and mementoes and advice about the Man-in-the-making. It will naturally reflect the mother's hopes at first, but gradually transition into the boy's own aspirations.

I love this idea in many ways. How many of us actually take the time to discuss with our kids the kind of parent and adult they might someday be?

For our daughters on Father's Day, an extension of the idea might be to ponder together the kind of person we hope to share the awesome responsibility of parenting with someday. Recognition of values to find in a true partner. Encouragement that pursuing that partner is good, even if Mom has found the pursuit elusive, or is doing well alone.

Then Mom's role is to step back, year by year, and let our child fill in the picture on an annual basis of what kind of relationships they want to have in their life -- what values are important to them. Parenting in a nutshell.

We cannot make their ouches go away. Or even predict what they will be. We can only know that there will be things that trouble them. And that they will, for the most part, have to get through them in their own way.

What we can offer them is a great deal of conversation in order to give them the tools, before we send them on their 80 percent merry way.

What do you think? What emotional pain do you worry about with your children? How do you plan to spend Father's Day as a single mom?