Our words about motherhood

and the worlds we are building

Last week, I heard a woman comment that she was not ready to leave a meeting we were both in. I braced myself but I’ve been in these conversations, but someone else asked why. She responded, “Because I have to go pick up my kids.” I cringed, mostly on the inside, because it’s a fair assumption that she says similar things in front of her children.

Kids are easy targets for our words. They don’t have power to speak up in their own defense. Few other people are going to call us out. There is often some tiny grain of truth in the words that makes it hard to push back. It is culturally acceptable to dog your kids and your spouse and it does not increase your popularity to be the person that says something to the contrary in a group.

Parenting is hard. I don’t think any of us are debating that. Children do not make your life easier, though they do make it richer. Sometimes there isn’t an ill intent; words become a release valve for feelings we haven’t dealt with. But everyone loses when we make this a habit. 

Our words about our kids matter for three reasons. Our kids hear them and it becomes part of what they think about themselves. Our words become part of the story we are telling ourselves about what is true. Other people hear our words and that affects how they view children.

Children are not convenient. But it’s not just children that are inconvenient. People are not convenient. That’s not a bug; it’s a feature. We are designed to need each other but this isn’t always the message that’s communicated. We prize the people who are autonomous and efficient. But none of us are autonomous really, at least not permanently. We aren’t as children; we won’t be when we’re old. Illness or disease or disability can bring our reliance on others to the surface at any moment. 

My motto is “People are only inconvenient when you expect them to be convenient.” We are not robots or machines. We don’t have children because it makes us feel good or look good. We ourselves are not designed to be convenient even for ourselves. I wouldn’t have designed humans to need to eat as often as we do; the work of food takes up so much time. We all have to learn to live in the limitations of what it means to be human and to let everyone else stay there too. 

That means that our tiny children need a lot of care and instruction and attention. I am aware that this can be very draining. I fully support, to the extent to which it is possible, building a life with rhythms of quiet and rest and time with adults. Some of our problems could be alleviated if we use our agency But it also means changing how we think about things. If we mutter under our breath every time we are needed and roll our eyes when we need to correct our children or say demeaning words within earshot of others (or even just to ourselves), we are damaging ourselves and our children. That changes us. It forms who we are and I don’t think many of us want to be that person. We just don’t think about what we’re doing.

My question here is “what story do we tell about motherhood?” We are telling this story to ourselves, others, and our kids. Do we whine about how hard three-year-olds are to moms of two-year-olds?¹ Do we tell younger parents, “Just wait till they’re older?” Or look at pregnant women and say, “Better sleep while you can?” Or are we honoring our children as image-bearers? Are we looking at parenting as shepherding a person to maturity?

Do we tell our kids that they are an inconvenience and a bother? Do we tell them that they are only worthy of derision instead of care? Or do we tell them that we are delighted they exist and we’re so glad they are ours even when we’re tired and would like a long dinner with no bickering? 

Our words are always going to be a work in progress. James 3 talks about how this is a difficult part of our life to master but it’s an area that’s worth the work. Our words matter. Using Proverbs, I’ve been talking to the boys about how we choose whether our words build up or tear down, whether they are fruit or poison. It’s probably worth the time for all of us to take an inventory of our speech. Does it honor God? Does it honor God’s image in those around us?

Our words build so much of the world that we inhabit. The people around us have to inhabit those worlds too, at least some of the time. Our children are entirely at our mercy when they are small. They will live for a long time in the world we are making. What world are we creating for them? 

1. This is not the same as going to a trusted friend or mentor for prayer, advice, and sympathy.