Best Mom Ever…

Happy Mother’s Day to all you mom’s out there.  Hopefully this ONE day of the year you are getting treated to breakfast in bed (without having to clean up the kitchen mess).  You are getting creations made by your children (that you will cherish forever even if they find the macaroni art totally dorky later in life).  You are getting beautiful flowers (that you aren’t allergic to).  Basically, I hope you are getting spoiled and cuddled and loved.   I hope you are feeling like the “good guy” instead of the warden of your real life prison.  You see, being a mom is THE toughest job in the world with the least amount of accolades and awards.  Why do women do it?

Now, let’s look at this one day of the year that we honour and celebrate those heroes of child rearing.  Again, I am generalizing and focusing on those women who do actually care about their children and want to nurture them and help them grow into functioning rational adults.  There are those who would tsk-tsk stay-at-home moms as they are not bringing home any kind of income or helping with financial burdens like mortgages or groceries.  But, I am betting that many a stay-at-home mom would LOVE to swap a week out of the house with you, the bread-winner, so that she could have regular sleep hours and a regular lunch hour and just any break that the working class stiff can get.

Mom’s dream:  alarm clock wakes you up.  Yeah…it’s that’s simple.  It’s not a wailing child who is wet or hungry or both that awakens you.

Mom’s dream:  At the end of the week, if the child is still alive and well, she gets a paycheck.  Mission accomplished.  Job well done!

Mom’s dream:  Dress up for work.  Wow…fancy!  No spit up on your clothes.  No food or drinks spilled on you.  What a beautiful dream.

Mom’s dream:  A civilized lunch.  Not eating up the leftovers on your kid’s plate.  You know…the half chewed stuff they didn’t finish.  A nice warm meal and you get to finish it while it’s hot.  Oh and you don’t have to share it with anyone.  Especially if there is a cookie or chocolate or something to go with it.  It’s all yours!  You don’t have to hide in the bathroom or the closet to eat it.

Mom’s dream:  Pee in peace.  OMG to actually go to the bathroom and not have someone knock on the door or have a toddler crying because you left the room.  Pee in peace.  No rushing at all!

Mom’s dream:  Talking to adults.  Yeah, no reciting the alphabet or singing rhymes.  You can talk about tv shows (not Paw Patrol or Disney stuff), but things like Game of Thrones or Grey’s Anatomy, or [insert tv show you would love to watch and talk about if you weren’t so tired].

Mom’s dream:  Sleeping.  Actually sleeping.  NOT tossing and turning in bed, running through the list of things that need to get done.  It’s not just your stuff to think about, but you have to think for your kids as well because Mother’s are preventative thinkers.  We think about worst case scenarios before they even happen because that way we can fix it when it happens because we predicted it was going to happen.  Why do they call the big purses Momma bags?  Because we have EVERYTHING in there.  That tote has more first aid items in it than a Doctor’s bag.

Mom’s dream:  not having to carry a Momma’s purse.  Our shoulder’s would be so much happier.

Mom’s dream:  telling the kids to do something ONCE and have it happen.  Yup, just ONCE.  Go to bed.  Eat your dinner.  Come inside.  Go outside.  Get in the car.  Put your toys away.  Come take your bath.  JUST ONCE!

Mom’s dream:  Hearing your child say, “You are the best mom ever!  I love you.”  Yes, that is the ultimate dream.

For every tired mom with babies and toddlers you remember the morning sickness, the tiredness, the back aches, the swollen ankles, some even had bedrest.  The labour…OH DEAR GOD…the pain of actual birth.  Then the joy of that little bundle, so helpless in your arms.  YOU…mom…were the one that swore nothing would ever hurt that little angel in your arms.  You kept your promise.  The sleepless nights.  The multiple feedings.  You cherished that bundle and watched it grow.  It went from crawling to walking to running.  It went from cuddling and hugging to cutting the mommy-cord and wanting to be free.  Mom, you kept your promise.  No matter what, you would stand on the sidelines with your overprotectiveness because you made a promise, a long time ago to that little one, and you would never break that promise (even though some days you would want to end that kid’s life yourself).  You both survived.

From infant to toddler to tween to teen to adulthood.  No matter how grown up, that child will always be mom’s baby.  These kids will have children of your own which just doubles the babies in mom’s life.  Every mom knows that your child will grow up, but it never really does.  As moms we celebrate the accomplishments and their grown up lives and are happy that they’re happy because that was always the main goal…their happiness.

So, on this one day of the year that is called Mother’s Day, most mom’s don’t want stuff.  They want their child, the one that never grew up (but actually did) to just smile and hug her and tell her that “You are the best mom ever!  I love you.”

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!  To all you wonder-mom’s out there.  You have persevered in a thankless job, with no pay increases, no vacation time, no punch out clock, and best of all, absolutely no manual to refer to.  Kudos to every single one of you.  You’re doing it right if you’re doing it with love.  That’s all that matters in the end.

 

Mommy Mom Mama Ma

Mother’s Day.  I’m a little late, but just thought I’d share my thoughts and feelings about this day.

Remember, in grade school, when the teacher would have arts and crafts supplies so that we could create wonderful gifts for our mom’s for Mother’s Day?  Macaroni art?  Tissue paper flowers?  Not to mention all the handmade cards (most of the time, the misspelled words were left alone to make it authentic).  Those were the cherished gifts for Mom.

As we children grew up, we couldn’t wait to get money and go BUY a real fancy gift for Mom with a real preprinted card to go with it.  So proud we were of our purchases.  Something had changed.  The happy gleam in her eyes of past gifts just didn’t seem to be there.  We tried different store-bought gifts every year.  We couldn’t figure out what we were doing wrong.  Time passed.  We gave up on the gifts.  We gave up on the cards.  I still call her on Mother’s Day and I can hear the joy in her voice.  No gift required.  

Then I became a stepmom to three wonderful children.  I received the homemade gifts and, believe me, nothing could make me feel more warm inside than that.  The homemade cards, including the wonderfully misspelled words, were the most beautiful things I had ever received.  I remember the dollar store plastic flowers that were given to me.  They were so excited with their purchase that they had to explain to me that, “we got you these because they will last forever!”  Yup, after 16 years, I still have those plastic pink flowers.  The kids don’t remember giving them to me, but that’s ok.  I will always remember the joy and pride they had when they were presented to me.

Even now, with everyone’s busy schedules, the kids find time to call or email or text.   They find some time to come and hang out.  I love all the hugs.  I am enamoured with the fragrant flowers.  I love the preprinted cards with the personalized essay of love inside them.  The older I get, the more the waterworks turn on, but that’s ok.  They are tears of love.

It’s really nice now as well because The Artist and The Baker call me mom.  Truly special for me, as I never had children of my own but married into the family plan.  I love the kids.  I love being with them.  I love seeing them.  I love seeing how well their lives are progressing and how they are excited about all their future plans.

I am proud of all of them.   I worry about each of them.  I love them all.  I think about them everyday.  I truly believe that being a Mom is a privilege.  It’s earned with lots of love, kindness, and especially hugs. 

Thanks for letting me be Mom on Mother’s Day (and every other day).