THE WOODWARD/MORFOOT CONUNDRUM ~ An Honest Celebrity Mom

I was not a very good mother. I was always running out to do a movie or something.  If I had to do it over, I would either have a career or children. I wouldn’t do both unless I could work in my home.  I spent 20 years feeling guilty, which is not a very nice emotion.  Paul was never there either. He probably feels guilty, too.

⁓ Joanne Woodward

In four days, my son Harry will celebrate his first birthday, and I will celebrate surviving my first year of motherhood. There were some days in the last 12 months when I felt a certain kinship to the inmates (the innocent ones) at Guantanamo Bay.  I, too, have been the victim of “coercive management techniques,” also known as torture.  It’s called sleep deprivation and, according to a Harvard sleep specialist, not getting enough zzz’s causes “havoc” to the human body.  From my experience, it wreaks more than just havoc.  It leads to some serious blowouts with the spouse, overeating, and a general sense of bewilderment.

In my bewildered state, I have slowly learned how to be a mom while also trying to maintain a career and complete a thesis. Needless to say, 2011 was a tumultuous year.  I like to calm my nerves by watching bad TV and reading tabloids (and of course, having a glass of wine).  But every time I turn on the television or open a magazine, there is some celebrity mom expressing eternal bliss, giving tips on motherhood, and of course explaining how to lose the baby weight in a week or less. It is beyond annoying that they never confess to around-the-clock help and live-in personal trainers.  When I found the very honest quote from Joanne Woodward above, I did a double take.  It got me thinking about motherhood, careers, and indentity.

Every so often someone will approach me and ask the following:  Can you remember your life before Harry?

Before I answer this question, let me clarify a few things.  Harry is my first child.  I waited 31 years to have him.  Harry, myself and my husband Ross (Harry’s dad) live in an apartment in New York City.

Now for my answer to the question:  YES, I can remember life without Harry! If I didn’t, something would be seriously wrong with me. But I know that the person asking this question is looking for a resounding NO, of course I can’t remember life without him.

The problem is, when I pushed Harry out last January with the help of an epidural, I didn’t experience amnesia.  I experienced pain and discomfort, but I was still me and my past remained the same.  That’s not to say that life didn’t change dramatically when Harry came along—it did, and for the better.  Like all those celebrity moms say, my son made life more meaningful.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t remember the days when I didn’t know what Desitin was or how to use rectal suppositories.  At 6 a.m., when I find myself half awake, sitting on a foam play pad, surrounded by a village of Fisher Price Little People, watching a Barney sing along on repeat, I vividly remember what it was like to sleep for nine uninterrupted hours every night.

While my identity has changed dramatically, it has also stayed the same. I still write and occasionally teach for living. I’m still working on finishing my MFA. I still love to travel and take classes, and I still stress about how to afford New York City (the stress level on this particular issue has gone up a few notches since Harry’s arrival).  Now, on top of all that, I get to be a mom to an incredible little boy, who seems to be enamored with life and, for some reason, with me.

That said, after a year of being a mom, I’m beginning to think Joanne Woodward might be right. You can’t have a career or even non-mommy aspirations and be a good mother. (FYI Joanne—I do most of my work and writing from home and it’s close to impossible to get anything done with a baby in the near vicinity.)  If I were smart, I would put my desires aside and just focus on raising Harry, but for some selfish reason I can’t forget about my identity outside of motherhood.  Before I completely give up and give in to being peed, pooped and puked on as a full time gig, I am going to give my dreams one last shot.

Maybe I will prove Ms. Woodward wrong.

Or not.

Addie Morfoot is a freelance journalist at Daily Variety and is finishing her MFA in creative writing at The New School. Last year, her world turned upside down when she gave birth to her son Harry. Each Monday, she writes about juggling work, school, marriage, and motherhood in the Big Apple.