Monday, March 16, 2015

Thoughts on Mother's Day

Yesterday was UK Mother's Day.  I don't understand why Mother's Day is different here, but Father's Day is the same.  So essentially, I get two days, and Nick only gets one.

Sucks to be Nick.  Especially since he's the one that does most of the actual mothering.

Since it was Mother's Day, I wanted to have some gorgeous deep thoughts about being a mother. Sort of like this essay. It actually made me choke up a little bit, get that achy feeling in the back of my throat. But I didn't actually cry. Mostly because I was more than a little bit jealous of her ease with words and her story, how she managed to do something she thought was too hard.

I don't really have any deep thoughts to share.

I was thinking the other day about this book I never finished (never got even halfway thru- it was REALLY long) but it was about Helen of Troy, sort of. (I think it was this one, but honestly, I'm not even sure. I really didn't like it, not because it was bad, it just wasn't my thing.)

Anyway, I don't know much about Helen of Troy, but in that book, she has a daughter. So when she falls in love with Orlando Bloom and runs away with him and leaves her husband and starts a war...she also leaves her daughter.

She LEAVES her baby.

I'd rather die. If for some reason I'd had these kids with someone else and then I met Nick and we just HAD to be together for some reason and I was willing to forsake my vows and go on the run... I couldn't leave my babies. Not even for Nick. Especially totally and completely.  It's not like Helen could Facetime once she got there- it was over. They were effectively dead to each other. I can't even wrap my mind around the idea.

But then I got to thinking... maybe Helen's kid sucked.  You know how some kids are just... lame? I love my kids (obviously) but they're EASY to love. They're sweet (for the most part) and kind to me and each other and they've always just been good.  Good babies, good toddlers, manageable kids.

What if I'd had an awful kid? What if I'd had one of those babies that don't sleep?  Apparently, they're very common.  I wanted to strangle- actually STRANGLE- Warren when he was a baby bc he went thru like a six week phase where he didn't sleep well at night.  Would I have been able to love a baby who made my life miserable?

Would I have been able to love a child with some sort of severe life altering special need? Or what about just one of those kids who sucks? Like, the parents do everything right, but the kid is just sort of a dick? Would I still love my babies?

I know normal women would.  I mean, that's human nature, you love your babies. Survival of the species, spreading the gene pool.  But I'm awfully self absorbed, and I don't like doing hard things.

Thankfully, I can usually push these thoughts away because it's a moo point.  You know, like a cow's opinion.  I'm done with babies and I don't strangle anyone when she/he wakes me up every now and then. Scott is a dick, but he's also extremely kind and caring and easy to love. Warren, my only 'challenging' baby (and he really wasn't at all) is so charming and gorgeous and funny and sweet and he makes me so happy to be a mama.  Ava is practically perfect in every way and she made my transition into motherhood the stuff of fairy tales. And Junebug reaffirms every single day that THIS is what I was made for- loving my babies.

This is my purpose.

It's not something I ever saw for myself when I was younger and dreaming of the future. I didn't even want kids until my sister had her baby. But now? I wouldn't give them up for anything. I cannot think of a single thing I'd be willing to trade them for.  Certainly not Orlando Bloom. I can't fathom my life without them, and there's not a single thing I'd change about any one of them.

And that's shocking, to me more than anyone else.

I would not change one single thing about any of my four children. And I can't believe that that's how I feel about motherhood.


  1. I always think of that poem/song/something you posted a long time ago and talked about how you may not always want to get on the floor and play with them, but you will always hold your babies. You're an awesome mom, lady. I've always thought that you don't really give yourself enough credit. This post makes me want to hug the hell out of you, and I know how much you hate hugs.

    1. Yeah, I'm gonna need you to not hug me. But thanks. We can hug over the internet. I'm more comfortable with that anyway.

  2. Happy Mother's Day, first off! Second, I am a person with a challenging baby who sleeps generally but also spent most of her first three months screaming at my boobs. Even though some days I contemplated driving far, far away I have the same feelings as you when I think of leaving her or something happening to her. No matter what they're ours, with their stupid cute faces and adorable stupid habits. You're a great mom. :)

    1. Thanks. And so SO glad I didn't have sleep problems. There's a light at the end of the tunnel, you've got to be almost there!!

  3. Love and appreciate your honesty. FIST PUMP EMOJI.

    1. Well thanks. (I love the fist pump emoji comment . Imagine me putting in that guy who's laughing so hard he's crying.)

  4. moo point.