Me: "Who has the best seat in the house, me or daddy?"

Adam: "Well, Daddy's is nice, but yours is best. Your's is squishier."

Monday, May 12, 2014

Another Kind of Mother

Mother's Day.  That guilt ridden, worry filled, tormenting day when all of our worst traits are thrown into our faces by our sharp contrast to the ideal, impossible-to-aspire-to, perfect mother.  Every card extols Her glorious dedication, every sermon lists Her unattainable qualities.    

There should be a card that says, "Hey, you fed the kids two out of three meals, you maintained a clear path through the clutter in the main rooms of your house, and you're wearing a bra today!  
You are the BEST MOTHER EVER!!!!"

There should be overpriced jewelry, with minuscule diamond-like chips in it, that says,
 "You Tried", and  "#2 Mom", 
and "Could've Been Worse".

There should be a song that the little children get up in church to sing (for those of you who know it, throw the following words into that well worn Mother's Day song, Mother, I Love You):

Mother you're crazy
Mother it's true
My greatest fear is to grow up like you

Though I'm not near you
I can still hear you
Bellowing, ranting and scolding us too.

Mother, my shrink says 
I shouldn't call you.

My mom always hated Mother's Day, so I kind of learned that Mother's Day seems to rub into mom's faces all the things they wish they were but feel they aren't.  I have to be honest with you; I don't know many people whose qualities could be sold as a Hallmark card.

These are the people I do know:

I know a mom who was abused by her father, who had been abused by his father.  She didn't continue the cycle.

I know a mom who has recognized the emotional drama that her mother generates, and has learned to distance herself and protect her children from it.

I know a mother who has taken damaged children that the world abandoned to the system, given them a name, a home, and a family of their own.

I know a mama who never got to have babes of her own, but hasn't let it stop her mother heart from nurturing the children of other mothers.

I know a mom who is going to college even as she prepares to send her own child to college.  

I know a mother who is fighting the battle of her life, but her kids would never know it.

I know a mother who gave her child a better life, and gave another woman a chance to be called "mommy".

I know a mother who does it all by herself.  All of it.

I know a dear mother who wraps her heart around every soul she meets, spreading warmth and love.

(Do you see yourself here?  I hope you do)

Happy Mother's Day
to all the imperfect, trying very hard, mistake making but improving, sometimes impatient, moody or whiny, temper-losing,  off-times unorganized, bra-less and utterly irreplaceable Mothers. 


Unlike me, my day was pretty darn close to perfect.
I came home from church, put on roomy pants, grabbed my book, a pillow, and the baby, and headed for the hammock.  I read and then I napped.  No one mowed a lawn next-door, no neighbor played profanity-ridden rap music, no fly buzzed my face (I really hate that).  The chickens were quiet.  The kids didn't even fight or pester me.  It.  Was.  Delicious.

When I woke, it was to the busy-bee voices of my family setting up dinner on the patio.  Guy made awesome homemade Thai food, and not a single kid burped or said "pull my finger" the whole evening.

Later we had yummy Banana Fritters with strawberry puree' and pineapple-coconut ice cream.  I was given a paper crown by Jonah, and a billion little cards and notes and hand prints from The Littles and Middles.  It was so nice, I almost forgot that I am not as awesome as they were pretending I am.  That's okay.  It's nice to be paper-crown wearing queen for a day.  I'll go back to being just-mom tomorrow.

A gift from Guy; little succulent pots he planted for me.

Everybody getting along.

Look at all those people I made!  (Well, I had help)

Gifts for mama.

Back to the grind.  A mother's work is never done!

1 comment:

rebekahmott said...

Thank you for this post, Mothers day is one of the hardest days for me. It is even harder for me know than it was for me when we were trying for 4 years to have kids.