Interesting response to these two pieces on Mother’s Day. In the Times on maternal guilt — are we the most guilty generation of mothers ever to walk the earth? I suggested that possibly we are. And Professor Tanya Byron cautioned that over-guilty parenting can, ironically, have a detrimental effect on children — so that the very thing you’re working hard to avoid (damaging your kids) becomes the thing you cause. Didn’t want to think too much about that in case I felt guilty. (Joke. I generally don’t feel guilty.) Twitter response: “Totally agree. ‘Guilt is just your ego’s way of tricky you into thinking you’re making progress.'” “I resist the G word and agree with Tanya: if felt, do something to nip it in the bud and squash it.” “Hear, hear. As a mum on the road, I’m not even at home for Mother’s Day. How much guilt does that involve?”
And in the Guardian on mothers and criticism, I wrote about the strange, passive-aggressive things that mothers and daughters say to each other. “One thing you could try is not sleeping with everyone.” That’s probably still top of the list (from a US-based blog post). Mostly people identified and had their own horror stories (and were glad of the opportunity to move away from the saccharine image of Mother’s Day). But there was some feeling that this idea was “anti-feminist” (i.e. women should support each other and not be bitchy to each other — the trouble is, in real life it is not always thus…).
And a couple of commenters wondered where the dads were in this. I put in some comments about fathers in my original copy but it was felt (by the editor) that this was a piece about Mother’s Day and so it should centre on mothers… I’m intrigued that some people are uncomfortable with the idea that mothers and daughters say nasty things to each other. I know they don’t *all* do this and this is not everyone’s experience of life. But it is a thing that most people recognise and that’s why I wanted to write about it. Also otherwise I would never have heard (via Twitter) of the mother who said, whilst looking at a photo of her daughter as a teenager: “You look like Meatloaf.”