So. It’s Mother’s Day. This could also be known as the day when moms all over the country follow their child to soccer, baseball, softball, track or the sport of that child’s choice to cheer them on. My two youngest kids play soccer, so that’s where I’ll be. I’m glad that the chance of rain has diminished, but I do find it curious that soccer season is over before Father’s Day. I’m guessing women did not make the schedule.
I’m also guessing that the women did not decide that this Sunday, Mother’s Day, should also be Silent Sunday. For those of you not familiar with Silent Sunday, it’s the day when parents and coaches are encouraged to be there for their child, but they are not allowed to verbally cheer or instruct the players on the field. So basically they are telling moms, “We know you’d really like to spend Mother’s Day at the soccer field with your child instead of on your hammock, but we really don’t want to hear your voices on the field, either, so today is Silent Sunday.”
I have my own opinions about Silent Sunday, but in all seriousness, I’m okay with the fact that I’ll sit outside today, watching my daughter play. I’m going to enjoy Mother’s Day instead of working all day.
This is really the first Mother’s Day I’ve resolved to enjoy. Mother’s Day has always been difficult for me. Growing up in a home where I wasn’t sure how to show my mother affection, and then realizing that I actually had little affection for her, and then realizing that I could show other women how they’ve mothered me, and then realizing that I’m too grown up for that, and then becoming bitter because I didn’t have a mom to celebrate…I’ve basically felt lost on Mother’s Day throughout the years. Even as a mom, I felt like a fraud.
But recently, I’ve done a lot of critical thinking about my life. If I were to die soon, what would I be proud of? What would I regret? What do I want to do differently moving forward? What’s really important in my life? And what’s really important in other people’s lives?
Three weeks after I turned 21, my oldest daughter was born. Not only was I a baby, too, but I also felt very alone. I knew who I wanted to be for her, but I wasn’t sure how to be who she needed me to be. The same has held true for my other two kids. I grew up with ideals about being a mom, and then reality hits, and you just do the best you can every day. You make sure your child is fed, has a roof over their head, that they feel listened to and valued, that they have what they need and most of the time what they want, too.
It a long process. It’s a tiring, daily, ever-changing process. No two kids are the same. You think you figure out one thing, and then something else slaps you in the face. Like many other jobs, motherhood requires you to make good guesses every single day. And you hope that when your children become adults, you’ve made the right guesses.
And as I was looking over my life, the things I’ve done and the things I do, the guesses I’ve made, the mistakes and the successes, I have decided to enjoy this Mother’s Day because I feel like the thing I’m good at is motherhood.
I’m certainly not the mother every thinks I should be. And sometimes I’m not even the mother I think I should be. I can look back over the last 15 years and point out all of my failures, and I’ll be hesitant to highlight my successes. But none of that really matters because when I look at my three kids, I see three kids who are well-adjusted.
They do not follow the grain of their peers. They feel how uncomfortable being different than everyone else is, but their dad and I have pumped them with enough love that they know their differences are actually strengths. And with that, they are able to dream about all the possibilities their little minds could create.
My kids are kind to their peers, respectful in the classroom, hard workers and they bring something new to the table each and every day.
Of course I worry about what their lives will look like in 10, 20 or 30 years. Will they make it? Will they have everything they need to make it? Am I teaching them everything I can? I don’t know. Probably not. But I’m ok with that. Because I’m trying to raise kids who can think on their own.
When I look at them today, I can say, “Ok.” They know that I am a safe place for them. They know I have expectations of them. They know I know they are going to make mistakes. And they know I’m here for them when they do make mistakes. I’m also here when they are successful. And that’s the best mom I can be. That’s the only mom I want to be.
