Good Enough Mother

Back in the day, when women had fewer choices and spent most of their time locked into motherhood because they had to, a pediatrician and child psychologist named Donald Winnicott developed the concept of the “good enough” mother.

The good enough mother lovingly provides for her baby’s needs, but as time goes on she instinctively begins to leave a small lag time between an immediate demand and the satisfying of it. This contrasts with the “perfect mother” who meets all of her child’s needs instantly, on the spot, and sets up a life-long expectation that may not be … umm … realistic.

As her baby grows, the good enough mother waits a beat, then responds with caring and warmth, creating a sense of security and safety but allowing the opportunity for her little one to develop emotional growth and resilience. By delaying immediate gratification, baby learns to provide for some of her own needs, creating a sense of mastery and independence.

By introducing small, manageable doses of hardship and struggle the good enough mother teaches her kids to do for themselves. Makes sense, right?

But 21st century mothers of choice, who have opportunities, careers and an expansive menu of options seem to have gone in the opposite direction. Good enough mother? Are you kidding? We’ve created an elaborate contest designed to make us the best mother, because the best mother raises the best children who will learn baby sign language, walk early, read by preschool, excel in multiple competitive sports, and attend a prestigious, brand name university — all of which requires our minute-by-minute intervention and support.

The good enough mother might raise the good enough child, and that’s certainly not what we’re going for. We are competitive mothers and we are determined to win. You can’t leave that to chance. You can’t let children stumble, then pick themselves up and try again because they might fall behind in the race. And that makes them (and us) look bad.

Look at a few of the baby products marketed to this craving for instant satisfaction:

Pacifier clips and bottle propping devices. These gadgets assure minimal frustration for mother and babe by never letting that nipple (whether filled with milk or meant for soothing only) stray too far. Not only unnecessary, bottle proppers contribute to tooth decay, and while I’m all for non-nutritive sucking, your little one doesn’t need a pacifier within lip’s reach 24/7.

Baby wipe warmers. Room temperature baby wipes are just fine. Do we really think our babies’ butts are so delicate that they need constant spa treatments? A clean washcloth with water (warm or room temp) is better for baby and the planet anyway.

The Bumbo Seat. This foam baby seat holds infants in a seated position as soon as they can hold their heads up. Touted as a way to help your baby interact with the world from the earliest age, this thing looks nothing but uncomfortable. I’m thinking Mother Nature had a plan when she designed infant muscular development. We probably don’t need to improve upon it.

Thousands of varieties of baby slings, all claiming to promote more and better maternal/baby attachment. Baby slings are useful to keep mom and babe close and make moving through your day with a tiny one more convenient. They should not send a message of guilt, as in am I close enough?

Baby Einstein tapes, baby flash cards, and virtually all “infant enrichment” products. Interact with your baby. Talk, laugh and smile. Read to your baby and keep reading as they grow. That’s all they need. Gifted children do not come from the latest baby genius toy, no matter what the manufacturer would like you to believe.

The bottom-line message of the good enough mother is RELAX. Stop the madness. Let kiddo figure it out for a moment before you jump in to fix it. Fight the urge to create the ideal, trouble-free childhood you never had. To struggle is to learn, and we all need a bit of it, kids included.

We all do too much for our kids in a misguided effort to help them be the best they can be, and it doesn’t end when the science projects do, either. Mea culpa.

Older Son is living in a northwestern city he loves, working low paying jobs to support himself while he applies to graduate school for the fall. We’ve agreed to pay the cost of his applications (all 13 of them!) while he scrapes by and earns enough to cover the rest of his expenses.

He emailed the other day to let us know he’d sent out the last transcripts and ask us to deposit the cost into his debit account. As I transferred the money from our account to his (the beauty of online banking and the curse of knowing the details of your adult children’s finances), I couldn’t help but notice how close to the edge he is, bank balance wise. My immediate impulse was to add a little cushion, in addition to what we’d agreed on.

I don’t know how many times I went back and forth (put it in, take it out, no, put it back), but in the end I transferred the money for his transcripts and no more. This year of living on his own dime is worth more than all the lessons about financial responsibility we can teach. It’s hard to trust that he’ll figure it out and make it work, but we have to let him stumble and get back up.

I’m still working on being the good enough mother, Dr. Winnicott, really I am.