Mother's Daze

My kid’s bedrooms are disastrous. Sometimes, when my husband is working the afternoon shift, we eat cereal for dinner. My kids get a bath a couple times a week and unless they are covered in actual DIRT (or other farm-related matter), I think that is just fine. I’ve discontinued the endless stream of Laurie Berkner and Kindermusik in my car stereo and now my eight-year-old daughter knows all the words to pretty much every P!nk tune that ever made the Top 10, as well as Nickleback and a host of others whose lyrics I am fully aware are not always appropriate for the under ‘tween set.

Last night, my children left our yard and escaped to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. As I finished prepping their dinner, they were eating peach pie and chitchatting next door, and I had no idea they had left the yard. I told them to stay home twice before they actually made it all the way there, you can see how well they mind me!

I’ve screwed up the sex talk, forgotten to pack a toy for show and tell, forgotten it was library day, and allowed my children to trash the house making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches so I could spend an extra long time in the shower. I demand they relinquish the television for half an hour every day so I can do yoga and I couldn’t care less if Team Uumizoomi (or however you spell it!) is on! It is time for you to find something else to do for 30 stinkin’ minutes, darlings.

And Sunday, my proud, excited little children will present me with gifts they have labored over in school to reward my exemplary behavior as their mother. Parenting magazines encourage us to spend the entire month of May celebrating our awesomeness! For real? I am far from awesome! There was a time when I might have considered myself somewhat the selfless, self-sacrificing hero mothers are extolled to be; but not lately!

There are days when the cows are MUCH more appealing to me than my own children! Cows don’t whine, complain or argue. You may get kicked or bunted; but that is (usually) a short-lived pain. Cows do not climb into bed with you and stick their feet in your ribs! Nor do they color on your cabinets or get blueberry stains on your throw pillows.

This is the mother my children are celebrating today. How lucky are they? I can only imagine the backlash that is coming when they are old enough to hold me up to their own personal parenting standards and detail every instance in which I failed to live up to the gold standard of motherhood.

My mother got that backlash from me. Before I had children, I examined my own childhood and shined a harsh light on every wretched and painful moment and vowed I would NEVER make the same mistakes! Huh! I’d be Mega Mom!

If she reflected on that phase of my life last evening, as my children sat at her counter, eating peach pie before dinner, I hope she laughed. At me. For a REALLY long time!

Because my mother wasn’t any more or less perfect than I. Her ways influenced mine. Hopefully, I don’t make the same mistakes she did. Unfortunately, there are plenty of other missteps and pitfalls to land in!

Now, I look back on my childhood and I am floored by some of her finer qualities that I only wish I had. Like her patience for a sick child. When my kids are sick, I get so frustrated! I want to be able to fix it fast and take their pain away (OK - and get back to bed!)! I get really tense when I can’t fix it and I feel like they are suffering as a result. Mom could be up all night (when I had the chickenpox, she was probably up for DAYS!), and her patience with us never waned. Puking, whining little kids never fazed her.

She taught me how to color, too. I remember her, on the floor of the living room, coloring with me. I told her I envied how neat her picture was and how she stayed in the lines. Mom was the one who taught me to outline the area I wanted to color and then fill it in.

Best of all, when my Mom laughs, you can’t help but laugh with her. There are times when we did things that would have made any other mother ready to sell us to the nearest bunch of gypsies. Our table manners were particularly lacking when humor was at stake… but Mom laughed so hard she cried. Her nose turned up a little more, her cheeks flushed and tears ran from her eyes just as fast as the laughter was bubbling from her throat.

My mom taught me what it is to be compassionate, thoughtful, helpful and patient. To find the joy when you really ought to be angry. I can’t say I do it the way she does; but I know it is possible. And there are days when I try to do this mother thing a little better, because I think she tried her best too.

What will my kids say about all of my failings? Maybe they will think our occasional Fruit Loops dinners were cool? When they look back on all of this, I hope the one thing they are doubtless about is my love for them. They drive me crazy sometimes! But when they say ‘I love you, Mom’ (especially after they have been REALLY naughty!); the quiet moments spent cuddling or reading stories; when we’re cheering each other’s fantastic stunts on the trampoline; when they’re running around the barn finding their own unique ways to enjoy the place I love so much; I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world. Not even the cows.

I don’t think I’ll spend an entire month celebrating how awesome I am. I think the best gift I can give myself is to spend one entire Sunday celebrating the woman who shaped the woman I am, and two kids who gave me the opportunity to try my hand at this permanent title. I am proud to be a daughter, and a mom! Happy Mother’s Day to all of you who share either occupation.