Mothers Day in a new light

Today is the first day of May.

Today is the first full month of 2018 that I feel somewhat less lost as a mother, as a daughter and as a woman.

I have grown children, and teenage children, and fur children. I have a wife who I have been accused of treating like a child on occasion. Nobody is perfect, judgmental Judy.

I even have feathered children (I love those little cluckers).

I know, I look way too young to have grown children, thank you for thinking it.

The fact is I do. The oldest are adults, adulting in a grown up world far from my nest.

In case you need a quick refresher note here is a mini version of my sorta-adult life:

A long time ago in a land far away there was a young “know it all teenager” who found herself pregnant and stupid. She married her boyfriend, bought a house with a white picket fence added in a couple dogs and had everything but happiness.

More ridiculous things happened in the middle. Blah, blah, blah …

Fast forward 20 something years and that stupid teenager is a self proclaimed wise(r) woman. She made mistakes. She fell down alot, skinned her knees and nearly broke her neck emotionally and mentally. Eventually that lost girl found her happiness. She distanced herself from her own mother for fouls of a personal nature for years but has since, very recently, found forgiveness. Her grown children are distanced now, not by spite but by miles and sparse communication.

For all of my woes there is a light in distance, there is a summer plan to bring all of my people to the same harmonious place.

By harmony I mean grass and lawn chairs, sipping cold beverages and cheering on a game of corn hole or horse shoes. There will be laughter and loud voices, there will be barking dogs and trash talk. There will be breezes to blow the smoke from the grill.

There will be a stillness inside me finally even in the midst of reunion chaos.

Mothers Day may come in mid May but I am celebrating a little earlier. For the first time in a long time I have something entirely and unexpectedly related to extended family to look forward to.

Something that isn’t a surprise pile of dog poo in the hallway in the middle of the night when I get up to pee.

Something not related to a bag of cheese puffs in the pantry with a single cheesy puff left in the bottom of the bag.

Something uncommonly good to look forward to. Something not at all like a field trip leaving tomorrow at 4 in the morning which I learned about the night before.

Nope. Something really, really good.

Something great is on the horizon. A Happy Mothers Day indeed.



Mother’s Day. The real kind.

I am not a fan of this mothers day thing. I am intentionally seperated from my family tree mostly because of who I love.

Generally this is wonderful. It’s absolute bliss really.

However, when mothers day rolls around there is a deep pit in my stomach. A longing for unconditional love I never knew.

We celebrated a “moms’ day” Saturday instead. A full day of stuff we love as a family. Not because we had to but because we want to. An all inclusive splurge you might say. It was glorious. I felt loved. Honest and truely.

This the day of the official “Mother’s Day”,  so says the calender, started a little differently. I casually stepped over piles of laundry ignored  all week and strolled to the kitchen. I was greeted by a real life family kitchen, basically a mess of things not quite put away and a pile of dishes in the sink. I stopped and pondered who’s turn it was to load the dishwasher and I sighed deeply knowing it would be a long day of house chores.

I called to the children for help with today’s clean up. They came, with sad faces, to have left whatever it is adolescents do on the weekends.

They proceed to tell me they can not complete chores as we are out of a list of things, most importantly in this moment, dishwasher tabs. My son asks me if I picked them up yesterday. I snap back that we were together all day, how could I possibly have picked them up? I feel bad instantly. It isn’t their fault I have a deep issue with today and of all days I will spend it scrubbing toilets and folding other people’s underwear.

I sigh deeply and ask him to “please just load the dishwasher … alright?”
Seriously. Just load the damn dishwasher and stop giving me crap.

Instead of sulking and throwing plates into the rack, my child walks over to me and without saying any words just hugged me. I held him tightly and mom melted just a little, just long enough to relax.

The moment ended ubruptly when he said “no” … no?
As in no, I will not just do the dishes?

This kid.

He knows how to make me laugh. I love his sarcastic nature, he clearly gets it from me. This kid knows me. He appreciates me for who I am.

Even if he didn’t utter a single Happy Mothers Day this morning.

Even if nobody made me breakfast in bed. Let’s be honest, they didn’t even clean up their own breakfast.

But my boy hugged me so sincerely for 30 seconds I will forgive him for just about anything. Even not doing the dishes.