Why I'm grateful for Mother's Day

Why I'm grateful for Mother's Day

A lot of people complain about Mother's Day. For some, it's just another holiday invented by card companies clammoring for our dollars. We're inundated with commercials and advertisements and pleas to appreciate our moms for all that they do for us. For some, it's a painful day. A reminder of the loss of a mother or grandmother or perhaps the lack of a relationship with the woman who gave birth to them. For still others, its a day filled with anger and bitterness at an inability to become a mother or a poisonous relationship with our own.

For me, mother's day has always been a nice, quiet day to spend with my family. It's the day we take out to remind us to say thank you more often or to appreciate the things we gain from being with one another. We don't typically spend a lot of money, because historically speaking we haven't had a lot of that to go around. Our gifts are meaningful and special because we know that they will bring joy to the women in our lives that we cherish so much. That alone makes it worth the relentless ad campaigns for the month prior.

Pre-motherhood

I remember when I was much younger that mother's day was kind of an abstract concept. We'd make cards or crafts in school and the teacher would say we were doing this because we loved our moms and we wanted to make them happy. It seemed kind of silly to me because everything my sisters or I made went to our mom. She was a one woman show for a lot of things. She always said she didn't need anything. Being with us and being our mom was enough. That always puzzled me too. Who didn't like gifts? 

Still, as with most things, my relationship with my mom grew more complex the older I got. I didn't always understand my mom or the things she did. Kids tend to view things in black and white, with very little room for interpretation or allowances for other things that might be happening. Regardless of what was going on in my life though, I always knew my mom had my back. She was always the first person I called when I had knews, good or bad. She was willing to go to bat for me no matter what. She talked to me like a person and not like a child. She listened to my advice, even if she didn't or couldn't take it. Even through the teenage years that are always fraught with uncertainty and more than a little angst, I knew that she loved me. Even if I didn't understand why she said or did certain things, even if I was mad at her or didn't want to be in the same room or I was embarrassed by someting I had done...I knew she was there. 

I didn't always realize how extraordinary that was. When people talk about how they have a terrible relationship with their mother, it's so hard for me to envision that. Even when we were arguing if I had to get off of the phone or drive away my mom would always say she loved me before I left. She had a confidence in me that I didn't always deserve and I knew that if I got in trouble or did something stupid she'd come help me. Truthfully, the lecture would be EPIC, but I'd be safe. 

Then These Little People Came Home 

Suddenly, motherhood became a much more complex idea. It became late nights and little sleep. Early mornings and multiples cups of coffee. Breastfeeding and babywearing. Co-ops, pickups, dropoffs, grandparents and plane trips and organic baby food. Motherhood is an idea that consumes you from the inside out. From the very first moment that you see that tiny little face and you realize that this tiny little person relies on you for everything, a wall of pressure comes down on you. And you gain your footing, eventually. You do what you can with the information you have at the time. You learn and you know better and then you do better. 

Motherhood is a constant process of trial and error. Most of the time, you get things right and sometimes you get things wrong. And when you get things wrong, you feel like the whole world knows and sees and that you've let these tiny human beings down in so many ways. The world pits us against one another. It tells mothers that we have to be better than one another and we make choices sometimes that make us feel superior. Then a motherhood moment comes around that smacks us on our behinds and brings us back down to earth. Motherhood is a lot of things. It's constant joy when we see our children learn new things and make good choices. It's frustration when they make a misstep or enjoy the aftermath or a well wound tantrum. It's fear when they do something dangerous and anger when they do something hurtful. Motherhood is many things but it's never easy. 

So while I might have looked back in my teenage years and said I would have done x, y or z differently if I were my mom...the truth is....I might have sunk under the weight of all the expectations. I might have crumbled under the pressure. I might not have come through with 3 beautiful, intelligent, accomplished young women as proof that I did a lot right and did a lot of good. So here's my thank you, Mom. 

Thanks for birthing 3 beautful girls 

Thanks for believing is us, even when we didn't believe in ourselves

Thanks for telling us we were beautiful, even through our awkward stages

Thanks for helping with homework

Thanks for working hard to make sure we had what we needed

Thanks for teaching us how to care for ourselves 

Thanks for not comparing us to one another

Thanks for taking care of us when we were sick

Thanks for making sure we got where we were going

Thanks for always picking up the phone

Thanks for always being there

Thanks for not giving up on us

Thanks for letting us spread our wings

Thanks for telling us what we needed to hear

Thanks for lettin us go

Thanks for getting us back

Thanks for not holding grudges

Because of you, there is me and because of me, there is them. 

Thank You, Love You