Mommy Knows Best
by Colleen Down

I recently saw a T-shirt that read, "My mother is a travel agent—she specializes in guilt trips." Don’t we all? We mothers make such good travel agents because we’ve been on so many of those trips ourselves.

Every morning offers dozens of reasons to feel guilty. I feel guilty when I get up because Martha Stewart wouldn’t want me to leave the bed—the focal point of the room—unmade. I quickly brush my teeth and run out the door to get my child to school. We miss the bus—again.

I feel guilty because he yelled “shotgun,” and wants to make the five-minute ride to school sitting in the front seat where the air bag is primed to go off at any moment. I feel guilty because he’ll have to tell the office lady why he’s late—again.

Then I run home, hop in the shower, and lather up with Suave instead of Paul Mitchell shampoo. I feel guilty because my hair dresser said Suave will make my hair fall out. I grab a leftover chocolate chip cookie and a banana for breakfast, and feel guilty for not thinking of my cholesterol and eating oatmeal. I throw clothes in the dryer, including the sweater that yells, “Line Dry Only.” Paying a few bills, I feel guilty for using return labels from the Cancer Society (I never sent a donation).

I flip on the television and watch an exercise guru tell me not to bother folding my laundry, but enroll in a kick boxing class instead! Commercials remind me the washcloth in the kitchen sink is a prime carrier of bubonic plague, and if I don’t start buying antibacterial soap we’re all going to die.

The TV asks if I’ve taken my calcium supplement, as an old lady in a rocking char gazes at the sunset—or was that the Viagra commercial? More experts remind me I’m overdue for a pap smear, a mammogram and an oil change. It’s not even lunchtime and already I’m feeling totally inadequate.

The afternoon brings notes from teachers reminding me my child is behind in spelling and his lunch account is overdrawn.

Neighbors phone to ask if I know that my child just rode down the street without her bicycle helmet. A computer calls to tell me I have three library books overdue. I get dinner on and realize one of he basic food groups, or whatever it is we’re now supposed to measure dinner by, is missing. I do my best helping with homework while wondering why I never kept up on algebraic equations. I send my children to bed feeling guilty for not spending time reading to each of them.

Finally, I crawl under the covers and begin drifting off to sleep, remembering that experts say my electric blanket sends out harmful electromagnetic waves. Oh well, if my hair falls out I won’t have to worry about using that cheap shampoo anymore.

Surrounded By Experts

We live in a world of experts. Madison Avenue uses the opinion of “experts” to feed our guilt and empty our wallets. In no area are we more prone to trust experts than that of childcare. Thankfully, Bill Cosby reminds us these child-care experts are usually people who have no children.

Surrounded by so many experts, it’s no wonder we forget who the real expert is. We are our child’s number-one advocate, and cannot turn this responsibility over to anyone else. While the school, church, and parks and recreation department can make our job easier, it’s not their job to raise our kids.

Each mother is the only person in the world who knows her own child. Like sonar, we recognize our own child’s cry on a playground full of children. We know which blanket our child needs when not feeling well. We know when our children are truly sick—and when they want to stay home because they didn’t finish their homework.

We must trust our instincts and not be so easily swayed by the advice of experts. An education team once evaluated my son, Andy. Sitting around a large conference table with a dozen psychologists, therapists and teachers, I was totally intimidated—until I saw the humor of the situation.

Here were people—who’d each spent no more than 30 minutes with my son—handing me reams of reports. Naturally, they contained no practical information—like why he insisted on flushing Barbie dolls down the toilet. I never saw any of these people again, but for a small moment they had me convinced they knew what was best.

While we need to learn from those who work with our children, mothers are among the very few people in our children’s lives who’re there for the long haul. Babysitters come and go. Teachers, Scout leaders, coaches, dance teachers, and neighbors all impact our children’s lives—and then move on.

Changing Advice

One reason to b skeptical of expert’s advice is that it often changes with every generation. When my first child was born in the 1980s, everything was au natural. Steve and I faithfully took a pillow to our weekly Lamaze class. We spent two hours learning to visualize ourselves on the beach and breathe deeply. Sixteen years later, those breathing exercises actually came in handy while I was teaching that baby to drive!

I kept my baby in my hospital room, sure that If anyone else were to offer her a bottle our mother/child bond would be broken for life. A decade later I was still having babies, but had moved to the medicated mode. The anesthesiologist replaced my Lamaze instructor, and I let a nurse give my baby a little sugar water so I could get some sleep.

The changes through my baby-bearing years can be seen in the diaper hall of fame. I began with cloth diapers that had to be rinsed in the toilet. I then progressed to the first Pampers that fastened with diaper pins. Lacking elastic leg bands, they made babies veritable time bombs waiting to explode. I now use ultra-modern, Velcro-fastened diapers. The alphabet printed on them teaches my baby to read as he’s being changed.

The challenge parents face is knowing which ideas are passing fads, and which are timeless principles. In the 1920s, behaviorist John Watson warned mothers to never hug and kiss their children. After reading Watson’s theories, I finally understood why grandmother kept insisting I’d spoil my new born daughter if I held her too much. This was the “expert” advice she’d heard as a young mother.

I wonder what advice I’m now following my children will someday laugh at. Worse, will my children need a therapist to recover from expert advice I’ve chose to follow? Not if my child-raising is principle-based.

Listen to Your Heart

True principles of love, discipline, humor and respect never change, no matter what the magazines say. They’re timeless. If we’re well grounded in these principles, we’re generally safe when we follow our hearts. Deep down inside, we usually know what to do—but sometimes we must listen to our hearts. We sometimes need to pull our minds over to the side of the road and let our hearts tell us which way to go. We can’t leave our brains by the roadside, but we should allow our hearts to lead us and let our minds follow.

The day I graduated from college, I was six months pregnant with my second child. I’d dreamed of graduation day all my life. It was a tangible goal I’d finally reached. As we sat around the table that night, my dad asked me about my future plans. What kind of career would I have? Had I sent off job applications? What was I going to do with that every expensive diploma now held tightly in my hand? He was shocked when I said, “I’m going to stay home.”

“Colleen, think this through,” he said. “Your husband hasn’t finished school and soon you’ll have another mouth to feed.”

I couldn’t find words to explain the feelings of my heart. I only knew I had a beautiful little girl who had changed my life. Soon I would have a new baby to love and nurture. My heart had already decided my new career was to be at home. My mind would just have to work out the details later. Would money be tights? Of course! I used cloth diapers on my first three children, we had dings on our credit report, we shared on car—and I’ve had cabin fever since I left school. Do I have any regrets? No, not one!

Children need Mom to be the most important person in their life. It’s time to set aside inadequacies and trust our instincts as we fight the battles ahead. At the end of the day we must feel less guilt—and more confidence and passion. We have God-given intuition and knowledge to do the job well. Occasionally we need to place a waffle with school of ice cream in front of our children for dinner. Then smile and say, “Mommy knows best.”

LDS Living Magazine