on striving for mediocrity

It seems a contradiction in terms: how can one strive to be mediocre? Surely being mediocre means not doing much beyond the bare minimum and leaving ambition, determination and sacrifice to one side? In the capitalist west, such values are lauded: if you want to succeed and get ahead in life, you need ambition, drive - and you might have to make some hard choices along the way about what you really want. Of course, if you don’t want to be uber-successful, you can drop out, but you run the risk of being labelled as lacking in direction, being selfish or lazy, or a loser. So who would strive to be mediocre?

Why do I ask? Because I have been pondering the concept of ‘mediocre mothers’, as opposed to ‘perfect mothers’, and wondering whether it might not, in fact, be better for women to strive to be the former rather than the latter. The article about Elizabeth Badinter that I mentioned in an earlier post - must read that book soon! - has been continuing to resonate with me. Badinter argues that the prevalence of so-called ‘mediocre mothers‘ is an important part of the reason that France has bucked the trend of declining birthrates in Western Europe. New mothers - and, more importantly, the wider culture - apparently don’t set impossibly high standards for themselves, and then beat themselves up if they fail to achieve them. There may be some truth to this, but I’m sure the extensive welfare state, which has generous paid parental leave provisions and all kinds of support systems that are free (at the point of service) in place is pretty helpful too.

But back to this concept of ‘mediocre mothers’. It’s kind of depressing to me how mothers are almost in competition with each other, even over things that we largely have little control over, such as baby’s developmental milestones. I can’t make my baby grow teeth any faster in order to keep up with the ones who have a practically full set of gnashers before their first birthday. It’s not like there’s a prize for the best, most perfect, mother. And, even if there were - God, I hope there isn’t! - by the time the beautiful baby is a teenager, if not before, they’re sure to burst that particular bubble.

I’ve read columns which opine that women who have babies later in life, after having climbed the career ladder somewhat, can be especially prone to ‘perfect mother’ syndrome. The argument goes that such mothers put all their energy and time management skills into raising their children, so that they tie themselves up in knots breastfeeding as long as possible, scheduling all kinds of developmental classes, buying the latest educational toys, preparing the most nutritious food from scratch and so on. The quest for perfection - whether physical, emotional or moral (intellectual is not really required, sorry ladies) - is a particular curse of womanhood. I blame the two millennia of Eva / Ave patriarchal thinking for this. When the perfect mother - Mary, the mother of God - is also a virgin, everyday women are bound to fall short.

I’m not excepting myself from a tendency towards ‘perfect mother’ syndrome. It’s so easy to be judgemental about what others are doing, if it’s different from what you’re doing. Even if it doesn’t matter at all if the baby has an all-organic food diet or not, as long as he or she is getting enough nutritious food. I guess the reason new mums are so hard on each other is that, if someone does things differently, it can be interpreted as an implied critique of what you’re doing. Surely, only one person can be right?!

Let me give you an example of ‘perfect mother’ syndrome. My baby was having some issues with sleeping a few months back, so naturally I read a lot of information and got plenty of advice - some useful, some less so - about how to tackle it. During this time I read Elizabeth Pantley’s book, The No-cry Sleep Solution. There were several good tips in this book, but I was particularly struck by an anecdote that she related hear the the end. She described being at her son’s little league game with her new baby, and how the baby was being passed around, held and generally cooed over by everyone at the game, and how great this was for the baby. So far, so good. And then she goes to talk to another new mother at the game, whose baby is strapped into a buggy rather than being held by all and sundry. This mother is having sleeping issues with her baby and is talking about ‘self-settling’ and ‘controlled crying’ and various other techniques. What was Pantley’s response to this? I have no idea what she did in person, but in her book - that’s right, in writing, for everyone to see - she scolded this woman for being cold and controlling! It certainly left a sour taste for me that Pantley felt the need to finish her otherwise useful book with a touch of moral superiority and judgement. So much for solidarity. In my limited experience, those of us who have had to ride out sleeping difficulties, no matter how short-lived, have sought solutions from all corners, even the ones we might have been ideologically opposed to in the warm glow of a good night’s sleep.

It seems to me that Badinter offers a much more affirming vision - both for a mother’s sanity and her solidarity with other mothers - with her take on mediocre motherhood: "My only advice would be to listen to your own desires and know that no one knows the secret of good motherhood. Moreover, don't let yourself be influenced by fashion. If you don't want to breastfeed, there is a good bottle to use; and if you breastfeed, well that is good too. Don't follow fashion, fashion changes."

Hear, hear.