Family life · Local · Mom is Doing Her Best

Mothers’ Day: When Expecting Less is Actually More

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Happy Mothers’ Day!  My weekend began Friday after school when my fellow colleague, friend, and daughter’s kindergarten teacher, rolled down her car window smiling and nodding that knowing grin all elementary teachers have (This is reference back to my blog regarding the 50% rule:

“Wait until you see the special PINK card in her folder.  You will love it.  She really wanted to make sure she had the correct spelling for one of the words.”

Of course she did.  And in my mind immediately, I knew that word was going to be “wine” because that’s my luck as a mother and a public school educator.  I do not consume inordinate amounts of alcohol but somehow since she could move independently this is what she would fixate on.  As a toddler, Greta would clink two wooden blocks together and say “cheers” to whomever her playmate was even if Grand.  As she grew older, she would set up her kitchen upstairs and I’d hear her explain, “No worries, just a little spilled wine.  We can clean that right up.”

Do you think I was worried?  No.  I actually do not drink very much.  Saturday nights wine is poured certainly but most of the week we are a water family through and through.  Summer afternoons a different story.  Am I embarrassed?  Only a little.  So, on this Mothers’ Day 2017, I’m going to honor those moms who maybe drink some wine now and then…or maybe BEER as in the case of this hand drawn card above or the occasional bourbon.

She pulled this card out of her little LL Bean backpack so proud of herself.  “Mom, I spelled ‘beer’ all by myself!  Even I had Mrs. Pamplin check it for me.  And Mrs. Fadden. They both said it was all right!”

Of course they did, and if they did not also have children my own kids’ ages I would have added, “I wonder what else they said!”  I squeezed her hard just so she could feel the maternal pride I felt in her spelling both “mother” and “beer” accurately on the same card.  So appropriate if only I drank beer.  And don’t get me wrong– I do drink alcohol every so often; I’m a responsible adult and it’s legal for me to do so, mostly on my deck or one of my neighbors or in the yard of my parents or friends.  This girl is not out at midnight closing down any bars any more.  The 5 AM wake up call just doesn’t cut the mustard for me being out that late.  And try as I might, our kids NEVER wake up their dad first thing in the morning– it’s always me.  Perhaps that’s my greatest wish this Mothers’ Day that I could just be “unattended to” until the reasonable hour of 7 AM maybe?

Don’t get me wrong– I love our kids, even if I squeezed one of their arms WICKED hard today at the Science Center when he pushed his friend and made him cry.  Yes, I left marks in his wrist I’m sure he would be happy to show you if you came by the house sometime soon.

If you are one of those mothers who is taken for a lovely brunch somewhere with your family and your children don’t pour half a gallon of maple syrup on their $30.00 pancakes or try to kick the crap out of each other while being seated, I wish you a Happy Mothers’ Day as well. I’m trying very hard to be sincere right now because being kind in these moments makes us better people.   And if you have lost your mom and are missing her sorely, please know my own mother Polly is happy to share every bit of love she has with all of you missing yours.  She is the best mom out there, which is why my brother and I have turned out close to perfection– with a little help from my dad.

And, well, if you are like me, then Mothers’ Day will be mostly like the other 364 days a year when you yell at your kids for waking up at 5:19 AM on a Sunday because they want to go fishing in the pouring rain or you find yourself threatening to put everyone in time out because someone has yelled, “I don’t want to be in this family today.”  We are as far from Norman Rockwell as they come, but we have awesome mothers who deserve to feel all the love in the world.  So, Greta, I love my pink card which shows me raising a frosty mug of beer to all the moms out there, which I’m apparently going to drink with a straw.

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