On Being a Mother

It's my 11th Mother's Day this Sunday and it's got me thinking about what it all means.

11 Years of Mothering these Magic Monkeys
I remember that at this time in the year 2007 we were preparing to adopt and were newly pregnant and I was looking at all those Mother's Day cards longingly.

Today, after being spoiled with two beautiful bunches of flowers bought by my hubby, I asked my daughter to play something on her piano keyboard and sing, both of which she does with beguiling ease. I asked that my son write something for me.

Both groaned "Noooooo!" Even though these are activities they engage in daily and just for the hell of it.
Evidence:




What is it about being a mom that elicits this response from our loved ones?!


How I would like to be remembered: FUN Mom, planning awesome holiday adventures, swimming in icy mountain streams, going on cycling & hiking missions, etc, etc.
How I will no doubt be remembered: Grumpy morning mama - my daughter took this pic, she also told me that I smell 'musty' this morning. It's yet another uninspired mashed avo on sourdough meal, but at least someone might eat it!
We went for a fresh walk on our wintery beach and my boy and I talked about the creative impulse. We talked about how easy it is to start a story, but how difficult it is to finish. I shared some pearls:
  • Don't wait for inspiration, nor the perfect time, nor place ~ you think they'll come and sometimes they do, but over the years that fortuitous combination of "just right" conditions becomes scarce as hen's teeth. 
  • Be disciplined. Just write every day. No matter what. 
  • Keep your Dreams Alive. Fear, self-doubt, "maturity," bills to be paid... all are excuses keeping you from joy. 
A Writer like his mom
And then in the midst of this magic parenting moment I just had to throw in a nag about washing his hair.

Sigh...the true poetry of mothering right there. You long for them to spread their wings and shine so brightly, but also to scrub behind their ears for crying in a bucket. You sacrifice your time and energy (and, let's face it, no small amount of dosh) enabling them to learn and grow while you yourself often curtail your own ambitions and live like some shadow of your former self.

After a decade I'm finally more comfortable in this role, less cramped and deprived. A lot more laissez-faire too. The Great Project is not "mine". I've always loved Kahlil Gibran and we even used his words as our wedding vows way back when, so let's go out with his wisdom:


PS. I love you Mom, thank you


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Comments

Anonymous said…
Lovelovelovelovelovelove!!!

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