Living in a glass house and all

Earlier this week, we all had a good laugh at the antics of Britney Spears, who appeared to have completely lost it for all the world to see. I recall saying something derisive along the lines of predicting certain drug overdose within the month. Then I read dooce's blog entry on the topic, and I felt incredibly humbled and embarrassed. How can we, as a society, simultaneously depict motherhood as blissful and perfect, while viciously attacking anyone that fails to achieve perfection at it?

Now, I'll be the first to acknowledge that it's clear that Britney has made some choices in her life that would give most people regrets. And I don't pretend for an instant to know anything about what it's like to be a celebrity. I know nothing about Britney Spear's life, or her relationship with her husband, her babies, her friends, or with drugs and alcohol. I don't know if she has addictions or post-partum depression or poor judgement or some combination of all three.

But I will tell you what I do know. I know what it is like to wake up in the morning and wonder what the hell happened to my career. I know what it is like to watch my peers from university become successful, getting top research jobs, becoming assistant professors, publishing papers, taking on graduate students of their own - while I am changing diapers and driving the minivan. I know what it is like to think "I was a star!" and wonder if I will ever get back to the place where I was being recognized for my talents, where awards and scholarships came effortlessly.

I know what it is like to look at my body and feel depressed and angry that it will never be the same. I know what it is like to hear people tell me, "But you are a mother now, that is the most important profession in the world!" and feel ashamed and guilty that I don't completely agree with them. I know what it is like to feel envy from others because they think I have lots of money and therefore I should be happy and not complain. I know how it feels to make mistakes as a mother and to feel judged by friends and strangers alike for it. And I know that if I hadn't found a group of other mothers that were struggling with the same emotions, I might not be here today.

Don't get me wrong. I passionately love my children and my husband and I would never change them for the world. I am generally happy with the decisions I've made and I'm trying to balance all the many facets of my life. But being a mother isn't easy. For me, it's a constant struggle of many emotions, most of them positive, others not so much.

I also know that if I had to go through all these struggles under the merciless scrutiny of the world press, that I would not survive. I'm not afraid to admit on this blog that there have been times that I have lost it too. That I have phoned my husband at work and cried hysterically. And that I have phoned my husband at work and said nothing but held up the screaming baby to the phone. That the first time I left the house on my own after Kieran was born, I considered driving right past the grocery store and heading north on the highway. That I have had to pee by the side of the road so as not to have to take my sleeping baby out of his car seat while driving solo from Seattle to Vancouver. That I have been a complete bitch to innocent cashiers because my children were being headstrong that day. That once I drove my 2-week-old baby across San Francisco, unlatched in his car seat, because I was too sleep-deprived to remember to do it up. That I have gone for days without brushing my hair. That I have stayed in my pyjamas until just before my husband got home from work. That I have screamed at my kids.

I'm not proud of these things, but I'm not afraid to admit them. Because I'm convinced that all mothers have similar experiences, we're just conditioned not to talk about them. Which means that all the other first-time mothers out there go through the same cycle again, feeling like failures because they think everyone else is perfect and that motherhood is supposed to be easy.

And I thank God that when these things happened to me, that unglamorous photos of them weren't immediately blasted around the internet along with other people's assessments of the situation. Because that would not be fair.

And therefore, I refuse to judge.