Saturday, May 10, 2014

Mother's Day

A close friend responded to a clip I’d posted about Mother’s Day, just an innocent little feel-good video representing the many facets and faces of motherhood.  She hates Mother’s Day because of how all advertisements and talks showcase super-human moms; it reminds her of all she’s lacking, leaving her feeling worthless.  I wrote back to her telling her that’s just it.  It wasn’t a documentary on one perfect mom in her picture-perfect house.  It was a million women doing regular life.  Some laughing, some stressed.  That’s life.
I suppose I like Mother’s Day for unconventional reasons.  In all honesty, I love the idea of a love note from my husband with a new bottle of not-over-the-top perfume, some (inexpensive, maybe plant-able) flowers, a sensible breakfast, and some handmade crafts from school.  And that’s what it usually looks like, although it wasn’t always like this.  I began to explain to Todd years back why it even mattered that he and the kids make an effort.  As I’ve gotten older, it really isn’t about me getting attention, gifts, or being pampered, anything like that; I’m not a gifts or service kind of person, I’m good.  But I think you older moms will agree with this. I simply want Todd to head up an effort so my boys will know how to treat their wives down the road and so that all of the kids have experiences making someone else feel good.  I want them to experience the joy that comes from thinking outside of themselves. I want the boys to understand what it feels like to help make a day special, to pay attention to what girls like, to take note of the sacrifices their future wives and mothers of their children will make.  I want them to recognize the unconditional love of a mother so they won’t take their future wives for granted and so they’re reminded that they will always, always be loved no matter what dumb things they do.  The best Mother’s Days are when I see this happening, when Todd has taken the initiative to help the kids make things different and special.  I could easily slip out of the bed or picture; it has nothing to do with me needing any of this.  I can easily pick up some flowers and perfume when I’m out, cards are too expensive, I have everything I need.  I know they love me and are glad to have me in the family, but what really, really makes my day and me happy is to see them turning their hearts toward someone else.
I also love Mother’s Day because it makes me think of all the women in my life, lively colors, spring flowers, everything girly.  If I ever get on the ball, I have in mind to buy or make (ok, buy; unless it’s something from my kitchen…) gifts for all my girlfriends and the ladies we love at church, school teachers, neighbor women, the grandma types, just all the women who touch our lives and our hearts.  I never do much more than our moms and grandmas because then what?  Who would I start with next?  And where would I draw the line?  Once every decade or so I’ll send a little something to my sisters.  But it’s usually Thursday before I even think of that, and it would never make it to them in time.  So I sigh and remind myself to think ahead next year.  I don’t even know what I’d do for the ladies in town, maybe flowers or lotion, a love note?  It sounds perfectly simple, easy enough to pull off.  But I never really get around to it.
I just want them to know how much they all make a difference to us, to our family.  I guess I’m hoping they just know.  And that they’ll allow me to bow out of showing or telling them because they get it.  I feel like we have an understanding—we know we love each other.  Let’s not stress each other out by making fancy things for each other, by one-upping each other.  Let’s just carry on with our womanly work and acknowledge that we’re all still friends and we’re all doing awesome.  But still, a part of me really does want to do all those girly things.  Mother’s Day isn’t so much about parading our mothering skills (good grief); to me it’s about appreciating the women in the world.  The feminine side of things.  Acknowledging one half of the whole.  In another month we’ll celebrate the other half.  It’s all good, I love both.
So no, I don’t mind the talks in church on Mother’s Day.  I love them, in fact.  I get good ideas, I love hearing the stories of how different moms do it, I come away motivated and inspired.  I used to cry quiet tears of frustration and inadequacy throughout the day, tears of longing for what I wasn’t and wouldn’t ever be.  It’s so hard being a young mom, you just don’t quite have the vision or experience.  Not to say I’m out of the woods, that I don’t still have pangs of guilt or regret; it’s just that I don’t wallow in it anymore.  If it makes me that upset then I should change and do something about it.  But I figure I have my own way of being a mom.  It’s not perfect or magazine-worthy or even blog-worthy.  We just put one foot in front of the other and make our way through the days and years.  I am in awe—simply in awe—of some of the moms out there.  They blow me away.  I have no idea how they live on such small budgets, how they home-school and have 10 kids, how they can keep their houses so clean, how they have that much energy for 5-course meals every night after running to 13 practices and games every week.  I don’t know how they manage to make homemade Valentines with dipped chocolates and cookies for every staff member’s birthday.  So much of it is beyond me, I just have no idea how they pull it all off.  Without drugs.  But honestly, who cares what anyone else is doing?  They’re amazing, but so are the rest of us.  To me, a good mom is a mom who is trying to be a good mom.  Whatever that looks like.
And so I guess to me Mother’s Day is a day to look at the women around us and the women we are.  To celebrate our femininity and role as nurturers, regardless of whether we have children or not.  To feel good about the work we’re doing in the world.  To pump each other up.  To take a deep breath, remind ourselves that what we are doing in the world matters.  It doesn’t need to look the same.  It can’t.  We all have different jobs and tasks and gifts and strengths and abilities and energy levels and circumstances and trials and heartaches.  Mother’s Day is to remind us that none of the dumb stuff matters.  And yet the little stuff does; they aren’t the same.  All that matters is that we loved, that we shared our mother hearts* with the world.

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