Rejecting the Metrics
Our culture is obsessed with achievement and metrics. One must constantly prove oneself using strong data to back up one’s success. In teaching, I designed SMART goals every year, then analyzed the data at the end of each year (and constantly throughout) to whether I met those goals. Business owners analyze inputs and outputs in many forms. In the working world, you will ideally see stronger growth and bigger numbers (whether in students’ reading success and math scores or larger revenue) as time goes on. Even in creating and running this blog and my social media posts, I find myself pulled to check the view counts, analyze what’s “working” the best, and wonder how I can reach more people.
But motherhood doesn’t work that way. I think it is one of the hardest and one of the most unsaid challenges of choosing to stay home with your children. The typical metrics no longer hold. The world around you will tell you that your home should be spotless. Your children should have limited to no screen time. You should be making balanced, healthy meals. You should find time to take care of yourself and be fit so that you can be very active with your children, but you shouldn’t be vain or too worried about looking pulled together. Your focus should be on your children, after all.
Name one child who has ever said, “I love my mom because she keeps my house spotless.” Or “I love my mom because she has washboard abs.” Maybe “I love my mom because she never lets me watch tv.” Or perhaps, “I love my mom because she takes us on these amazing literary adventures and helps us learn new things.” (My own daughters’ preschool All About Mom forms came home and they both said they love me because I play with them.)
How we play with our kids is not what’s important. The important thing is to play. Do I believe in the benefits of running an orderly home with rules and clean play areas? Absolutely. Do I think my children will fall apart if certain rooms stay messy for a week? No. They will not. (I might, but that’s a different story.) I truly can’t tell you the number of times I have said in my head something that ended with “but I’m a stay at home mom.” Things like “I know most moms let their kids watch some tv, but I’m a stay at home mom” with the unsaid but intoned added meaning that I should be better. “I know most people with little kids have messy houses, but I’m a stay at home mom” so mine should be cleaner. Part of this stems from my perfectionism. I get it from my dad. We both have to fight a tendency to think we should be and do better than the rest of humanity… Hello, hubris, my old friend… In many ways, it has served us both well. Perfectionism serves you well in your typical career.
But motherhood is different. Homemaking is different. The metrics I should be using to measure my success as a homemaker have nothing to do with quantifiable results. The number of crumbs on the floor, the number of uneaten protein or vegetables left on my children’s plates, and even the number of times they shout at each other in a day do not determine my success as a homemaker. What matters is this…Is my home filled with more laughter than tears? Do I offer healthy food options most of the time? Does MY voice stay calm when the shouting starts again? Are we getting outside? Is our house a safe, loving place for all of us to come home to?
You could argue that some of those things are, in fact, measurable. They are. But the success of motherhood and homemaking don’t depend on the actual numbers. They depend on me continuing to right my compass and move in the right direction. One of my favorite friends and former colleagues used to say that children don’t need us to join their chaos. They need us to share our calm. Do I always remember to do that? No. In fact, the other day my girls were shouting at each other, I was trying to put their brother down for a nap, and I came into their room and started shouting, too. My five year old daughter said (mostly without shouting) that if I was yelling, it would just make HER want to shout more. I was slightly embarrassed by my behavior, but equally so incredibly proud of the daughter I was raising. I told her she was right, and I made sure to compliment her on that epic example of self-discipline in front of her Gigi (my mom). Proud mom moment for sure.
This week I’m going to focus on laughter, love, and peace. When those things start to feel out of order, I’m going to slow down, cut things out, and figure out how to right my compass needle. How would you measure success in your home?
