Melody Tan: Being a Mary Mommy
by Melody Tan | 21 February 2024 |
You know this story. Jesus pays sisters Martha and Mary a visit. While Martha busies herself with “all the preparations that had to be made,” Mary simply sits by Jesus’ feet, “listening to what he said.”
As Christians, we’re meant to be okay with the moral of the story—to strive for it, even: our spiritual lives are more important than whether the floor is vacuumed or the guests are fed.
However, I’m also the type of person who has multiple to-do lists both in my head and in written formats. Taking a bath, for example, which is supposed to be relaxing, isn’t for me. It is a slow-motion torture, because I struggle with simply lying still when I know there is laundry to be folded and life admin to attend to.
Being Mary is a a struggle for me.
More than 20 years as a Christian has taught me to slow down. I still have my lists, but I have also had enough practice in understanding what is more important, especially when it comes to my relationship with God.
Then I became a parent.
Suddenly, I’m responsible for a whole other person’s life, on a whole new level.
The smallest person in the household necessitates the biggest amount of cleaning up.
The youngest person in the household has the most active social life.
The most opinionated person in the household requires the most decisions from me.
Laundry. Cooking. Cleaning. Planning. Driving. Coordinating.
I’ve become a full-time (unpaid) personal assistant to someone else, while trying to manage a household and perform my duties as a full-time (paid) employee. (It’s at this time I should acknowledge my husband who makes it possible because he is an equal partner, even if it may still be overwhelming. I have no idea how single parents do it.)
When I think about my son, my heart is filled with so much love it may just explode. Similarly, when I think about all the logistics, administration, and duties in my life—our lives, my head is filled with so much “aaargh!” it may just explode.
“Play with me!”
So whenever my son asks, “Mommy, will you play with me?” the main emotion I feel is dread. So. Much. Dread.
See, this is a child whose idea of play either involves lots of physical activity, mostly running; or lots of make-believe play, mostly role-playing. And up to a few months ago, before he became Lego-obsessed, play also involved building grandiose tracks for his Hot Wheels cars. So really, a typical child’s idea of play.
The problem, however, is that none of those activities are my idea of fun. I would much rather sit still and read a book. (Ironic, I know, for someone who thinks baths are a waste of time, but who can spend hours immersed in a novel.) As for make-believe, why am I role-playing other people’s lives when I have my own to lead?
Outweighing all my personal opinions on what my child likes to play is of course the fact that I simply do not have the luxury to stop and chase him, or pretend to be someone else, or even build something out of Legos. It’s when my son is playing that I have the time to rapidly tend to whatever household errand or responsibility that needs my attention. Even during school holidays, when I have taken time off work with the sole purpose of “looking after” my child, I find myself choosing to tick something off my to-do list rather than play with him.
And yet, I know how important it is to him for me to spend time with him. It’s not enough that we’re in the same room together, I need to be present and engaging with him. It’s a bit like Mary, sitting at Jesus’ feet, listening to what He’s saying. It’s about being in the moment, paying attention to the person that matters.
The situation may be a little different if my son weren’t an only child. Perhaps the “play with me” requests may lessen. Although, if conversations with friends who have more than one child are anything to go by, siblings playing with each other don’t free a parent up to tend to chores; they simply change a parent’s role from playmate to peacemaker.
I read somewhere once that the best way to tell a child “I love you” is by playing with them. If you believe in Gary Chapman’s love language theory, play is a child’s most dominant love language.
That thought was at the front of my mind when one afternoon, my child made his usual “play with me” request. I painfully made the decision to ignore the pile of clothes I had wanted to fold and sat on the floor with him. Rather than wishing I was doing something else and hurriedly concluding our “play session,” I deliberately forced myself to be Mary and not Martha.
Perhaps I imagined it, but the shift in attitude on my part and my active participation made playing with him actually bearable.
“Mommy, I love hanging out with you,” he told me not long after we finished playing.
I’d be honest and admit I still didn’t love the “play,” but to hear my son say those words made up for what I had to endure.
Would I drop everything and readily play with him the next time he asks? Probably not. But would I try to do it a bit more often?
Probably yes.
Melody Tan is a freelance writer, content creator, and editor for both print and digital. She is currently the project leader of Mums At The Table, a multimedia initiative aimed at supporting mums in their parenting journey, through education and community. She and her husband live in Sydney, Australia, with their seven-year-old son.