I know historically, on Mother’s Day, it is customary to reminisce over all the lovely things our mother’s have done for and meant to us. As a mother, I’ve constantly questioned my parenting formula while my children and the many other children I was blessed to help and support along the way, were growing up. I have many chances even now to replay the things I wished I’d done better; or the pain I couldn’t shield them from.
So, I’m not going to spend my special day looking at that! What I’ve decided to do is to spend this special day reviewing the things I’ve most enjoyed about my motherhood experience. I pledged my life to caring for and protecting the children I gave birth to and some that have happened to cross my path; and while weighty, there have been some wonderful, magical times.
Oddly enough, in the days when I “planned” my future as a very young girl, I intended to have four sons or no children at all. Okay, so now you know just how young I was – I really thought I got to make those choices! Smile.
But the moment I knew I was pregnant – I loved those babies. My first child was everything I thought she would be, with the exception of her sex; she was pretty, pleasant, smart and happy.
That baby and I rode all over the place. I was blessed with some sister/friends that felt kinship to us and the little chick had several moms. It never once dawned on me that I shouldn’t call them and say, “It is your turn today.” We painted her nails for the pool, combed her hair and made a regular little doll out of her.
Her Grandfather sent her a bear that recording everything that was being said in the room and then would start talking. That bear traveled all the houses and caused lots of problems. I packed her off for one of her stays at her “Auntie’s” house and secretly included the bear. She took the batteries out (and ruined my fun for that day). The bear was eventually banned from all the places we went; years later, this “Auntie” flew across the country to see this child wed and was innocently and conveniently set up by me with the runner (still laughing at this).
One of her “Aunties” sent her a real wool reversible blanket of a bear. She recently received said blanket to hang on the wall of her own child. And that “Auntie” took pictures of her final fitting of her wedding gown and helped – tirelessly with her wedding.
Another time, one of her “Aunties” watched her while I worked some overtime on a Saturday morning. When I got home, the “Auntie” was at the door with the munchkin in her arms; she extended her arms to me and deposited our little angel and told me, “I owe you lipstick #517!” Apparently, our little angel broke free and put some stuff on while the watching “Auntie” was knocked out. Apparently, “Auntie” felt betrayed.
The kid was musically inclined and I called her the little DJ as a toddler. She would turn up the tape player and play her eight key piano to Bob James,’ 3am – in time and in tone (as much as was possible); and when the song was over, she would turn the music down.
Over her young years, she offered me some life altering advice. Like what you ask? 1. Take a nap when cranky and 2. Wear sunglasses on hot days to feel cooler. She was 3 or 4 at the time she gave me that advice.
She helped to mold my frame of reference on some things. Like the time I was completely determined to listen to her read an ‘I Can Read’ book (76 pages) about a dinosaur. The dinosaur’s name was on every page but no matter how many times I gave her the correct pronunciation during the first 10 pages – she insisted the name was something different. Right before I blew my top – smile, - she said, “I’m the one with the problem, why are you upset?”
She also didn’t see much point in me holding a grudge against her especially if I had already told her what was right and she kind of forced me into early forgiveness. We spent many hours laughing and giggling as she grew up. I’m so pleased to say that we still have a number of good giggling sessions. She is an exceptional young woman and I really like the way she transitioned into motherhood; they are doing a good job.
My second child was everything I thought he would be, with the exception of his sex; he was so cute, so smart and very feisty. It took a while for us to learn to communicate with each other effectively. I spent many months trying to get across to this kid that I was the boss as he put me through my paces!
Before he could walk, he made his way around in this old walker I found for him. He whizzed around our place tending his little pieces of business. We had many “arguments” while he cruised around. We would both lift our fist to the sky. His father often asked me what it was like dealing with myself and did I know I was arguing with a baby. He never understood that the kid was a thinker and that intellect had to be nurtured.
His second Christmas, he decided to “steal” the candy canes off the tree. It was cute to see him “admiring” the tree and then hauling baby butt before the tree fell on him.
That kid hid the candy, from his looting of the tree, somewhere in the bedroom. He would take a tour and come back eating candy. I searched and searched (even got on the floor to see things from his perspective) and could not find the candy.
Come on – the kid was in a walker! I even tried to sneak a peek in on him. He would go in the room and slightly shut the door (he knew if he shut it all the way he couldn’t get out) but he just sat there like a lump while I was watching. Later, he came out – eating candy.
He had a white polar bear that was a gift from his grandmother. He used to roll around in the floor growling with that bear. I guess they were fighting. One time, he fell asleep with the bear on top. So, the bear did win one fight.
My grandmother had warned me to never make up stories for the children – “tell them the truth.” So, when at the age of 2, he asked me what rain was, of course I made up an elaborate story about creation. I remember actually feeling proud of my little story wishing I had written it down as I drifted off to sleep that night.
You guessed it! The next morning, when the kid saw rain on the cement, he melted down. He started to kick the water to the grass and wailed, “This water for the grass.” I had to pick the kid up like a bag of potatoes and put him in the car. Of course, my grandmother witnessed this!
The kiddo always had presence. I can personally testify to the fact that folks would go out of or drive out of their way to bring this kid money.
The boy could talk and talk. I truly thank my Aunt for listening to endless hours of his talking. He’s her “little buddy” and until their favorite place closed down, he took her out for a burger every year. At first, she drove him and then he would drive her.
When he went through his “hiding” phase, I determined to help the boy be a first class “hider.” I know! WHAT THE HECK WAS I THINKING? You guessed it, he hid from me and that ended those stupid lessons.
I must blame my son and my mother for my addiction to Harry Potter. My son and I would read together most nights in my room. I really looked forward to those sessions because sometimes he would share some of the things he thought deeply about.
My mother gifted us the first book and that kid of mine would change the story plot to get me ranting and raving! I finally figured it out because he seemed to get too much joy out of me melting down.
I remember the time this kid gave me a lot of mouth on Halloween and then went out with his sister. I heard them coming in and ran and got in his closet. I slowly opened the closet door while they were trading candy. My daughter didn’t waste time, she left the room but my son was stunned. I laughed and laughed that day (now, I’ma plead the 5th if this is child abuse) and needless to say we didn’t have to revisit that topic again.
But the kid had a fierce sense of the need to protect his sister (yep, she was five years older but that mattered not to him). At the age they were, boys showed their “like” by throwing rocks and pushing. Needless to say, my daughter and cousin had to pull the little guy off her would be suitor. I had many long discussions with this kid over the years and can honestly say I’m still privy to being shown his “muscles.”
I like the friendship he shares with his sister and her husband and I love the uncle and older cousin he is to the little folks in our lives. I love that he shares his poetry with me and patiently listens to mine. I also remember the very first time he told me he was proud of me – I still get misty eyed thinking about it because he was so mature.
My mother and I have kicked around what aspects might be considered when trying to judge ones’ parenting success - I’m still not sure about how to exactly judge successful parenting. But I can say that today’s meandering has lead me to wonder what my mother most enjoyed about parenting; which means – I will be holding an interrogation session the rest of the day to get this information!
I’d love to know what you’ve most enjoyed on your motherhood journey. I also wish you a very wonderful mother’s day – no matter how you choose to spend it and a very blessed year building more parenting and/or grand parenting memory moments.
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