Thoughts on Mother’s Day

So, I am up late writing out my Mother’s Day letters to my kids. With three I thought I needed to start early. Last year I didn’t finish (ok, didn’t start) Oliver’s until the middle of June. I was completely wiped out from the flood and early pregnancy so I had some excuse. Anyway, as I was writing tonight I had two thoughts that I wanted to post here.

1) Ryan is out of town this weekend. Some people I have told are shocked, “Out of town on Mother’s Day?!? What are you going to do??” But the truth is I am actually enjoying his being out of town this weekend. I know he is having a fun time (SCUBA diving in Honduras with a buddy from Raleigh) and that makes me happy. And I can do my own thing this weekend, which may be an adventure, or may be nothing.  I can set my own schedule. After the kids go to bed I can stay up late and work on projects and read and putter (I am a world class putter-er) and just relax.

So for Mother’s Day this year I am going to be engaged in Mothering—and that’s exactly how I’d like to spend it. I am really enjoying my kids right now. I know I used to feel this way a lot, but I haven’t felt so happy in being a mother lately (like since before Andrew was born). But I think it’s due to a combination of their getting a little bit easier and my getting better at not sweating the little things (like the giant dust bunnies under the furniture or dirty greasy fingerprints everywhere).

2) As I’ve struggled in my role as a mother, I gain new respect  for my mom. She did a lot for us growing up plus she had a full-time job. She kept so many balls in the air, it’s true, but the really amazing part to me is that I don’t remember her ever being cross or acting stressed out. I’m sure that she was often cross and stressed out, she just didn’t act that way around us. I don’t remember her yelling or blowing her top. I think I’m doing a better job in recent weeks of not losing my temper but I’m still not where I’d like to be.

I remember once, when I was about 3 or 4 and had just learned to write my name, I carved my name with a penny into the side of our car door. I remember that my parents were quite upset but I know they didn’t freak out or spank me or put me in time out for the rest of my childhood. I feel sometimes that I am so tightly wound, with absolutely no sense of humor or perspective, that someone would literally die if one of my kids were to pull something like that. But instead my parents got appropriately mad (I can’t remember what they did but it didn’t involve screaming or physical violence), I learned a good lesson, and I wasn’t permanently scarred by the experience. You see, I wasn’t trying to be naughty. I honestly thought they would be proud of me. I was thrilled that I could write my name and was so surprised that they didn’t think it was as just wonderful to see my name etched permanently into their automobile. I feel like Elliot does stuff like that a lot. He is just exploring his world, trying out his new skills and spilling /breaking things/tracking mud all through the house in the process. It is a real lesson in self-restraint. I need to have more patience. I know I have little patience when I’m tired so I’m going to sign off.