motherhood | Not A Perfect LIfe

Mother’s Day And All The Rest

Family
May 10, 2020

I was remembering just yesterday my very first Mother’s Day in 1990. After ten years of marriage I was finally pregnant and grateful beyond words.

On that Mother’s Day in 1990 my husband and I gathered with my parents and my youngest brother after church to go to lunch. I remember as we were leaving the restaurant, the wait staff handed my mother a rose, and then they handed one to me. I was a little surprised. I wasn’t a mother yet, I thought, and I mumbled something to that effect, I was only expecting a baby in a few short months. I was assured by those around me that yes, I was a mother, and this was indeed my first Mother’s Day.

It did not seem right to me at the time. I hadn’t earned the right to that title. I hadn’t put in the sleepless nights while tending to a newborn or nursing a sick child no matter how serious or how long it took, knowing that my presence made them feel better.

I hadn’t worried over the hurt feelings of a child who had been left out of a game or a party. I hadn’t spent any nights pretending to sleep until I heard my teenager come in from a night out. I hadn’t done any of those things, and yet, I was a mother.

And then I thought of all those women who longed so desperately to become a mother and it never manifested as the years rolled by and the clock ticked on. I had been there myself for those ten long years full of heartache and dreams.

That’s when I knew that being a mother wasn’t about putting in the time or bringing a baby into the world. It was more about pouring into the life of a child regardless if you were the birth mother, a relative or someone who chose to love a child just because.

I was a part of a prayer group on Zoom, and one of the participants prayed a prayer over mothers–all women really, whether they were ever pregnant or gave birth to a child. The words spoken resonated as I remembered…

It may or may not take a village to raise a child, but it does take a willing heart, an open mind and a decision to love as a mother does, with her whole heart.

Are there times in your life of dysfunction and chaos due to the behavior of an addict or alcoholic, that you regret the way your kids were raised?

Do you long for a do-over because you know way more now about staying in your lane, and lovingly detaching than you did when your children were young?

It’s only natural given the way things are while living with an addict or alcoholic, and, living with someone who deals with mental health issues.

We grow into the things we need to know when living in chaos, no matter the cause. I would be willing to bet that you were a great mom, or you wouldn’t be reading this.

You loved your kids with a fierce love.

You did everything in your power at that time, to be the best mother you could be.

You are loving, kind and courageous. So, give yourself a break. No, go bigger than that. Pat yourself on the back for a job well-done. You were there, loving them the best you could. Protecting and nurturing. but most importantly, YOU WERE THERE.

If you struggle with the past, especially when it comes to how you mothered due to the chaos of addiction, let me know how I can help.

When Mothering Changes

motherhood
July 21, 2017

There comes a time in each of our lives when mothering changes. And not just once. It’s something that happens over, and over with each new phase. Because each new phase of our children’s lives comes complete with a new phase for us.

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I read a Facebook post of a friend today. She was lamenting the times she told her kids to “Please hang the towels up”, and now they are always properly a-hanging. Her kids are grown and gone. And she misses those un-hung towels. She misses those babies she once held in her arms.

I had the wonderful, awesome privilege of not only staying at home with my kids, but home schooling them as well. A huge shout-out to my husband for supporting me in doing both. It couldn’t have happened without his support. But my life is different now, my mothering has changed. My kids are all grown.

There is, of course, a bigger issue than towels hung straight, dishes put away, beds made and curfews kept. My life has changed. My kids are adults, and it doesn’t even matter if one or two or however many adult children we have living at home, are still with us. The result is the same.

Our mothering has changed. With it comes the happy memories of fun and not so fun times. Memories that you hold in your heart for… well forever. The longing for times gone past are ever-present as you joy in the new and exciting things your adult kids are experiencing.

When mothering changes it ushers in a host of new feelings.

It’s the cycle of mothering.

And when kids grow up and move away…taking your grands with them? Well, mothering changes in a whole new way. I don’t have first-hand experience in grandmothering yet, and hopefully will always live near my grand kids, but for those of you who don’t…my heart goes out to you.

The struggle is real when mothering changes. To be there for each other is the best medicine of all. To be able to warn those young mothers who are suffering through sleepless nights, changing diapers, running kids to all those practices, games and performances and lessons… well, it’s coming to an end. It will seem like it was over way too fast for you too, when you look back.

You can’t “get it” now, so don’t even try.

You will be where we are today, soon enough, my friends.

Enjoy the good times and muster through the bad.

When mothering changes for you, we’ll be here to hold your hands and help you through.

Moment in Time

motherhood
July 3, 2017

I saw a post on Facebook last week. A mother had taken her son to New York City to celebrate his sixteenth birthday. She said the best part of the entire trip was when they were walking down the busy sidewalk and he nonchalantly slipped his hand into her’s. Her heart swelled from the love she has for her son, as she captured the moment in time. Because she knows deep down, that the days of her son holding her hand are drawing to a near end.

I can relate.

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The very same thing happened to me at almost the exact same time in my son’s life. We were hiking, all of the family. My son was probably 15 or 16 at the time. He was walking beside me and suddenly I felt him grab hold of my hand. He didn’t look at me or say a word. And neither did I. We just continued to walk, holding hands with my heart overflowing with love for this child of mine, this boy who was turning into a man.

It didn’t enter my mind that this was the last time my son would reach for my hand as we walked, in this moment in time.

It reminded me, too of a post I had written; Very First Last Time when my youngest was getting ready to graduate high school.

I was able to revisit my memory as I read this mom’s Facebook post. I even sent my now 25 year old son a text. I told him I just wanted to say “Hi” and to tell him I had remembered a special time with him today. Of course, he asked me what the memory was, which I wasn’t expecting, but I told him anyway.

He didn’t respond and that’s okay. To him it probably means nothing. After all, he is a man with no kids of his own. I didn’t expect a reaction from him, but I would still like him to know that out of my three children, I don’t remember the last time my oldest or youngest held my hand. I don’t remember where we were or what we were doing. But I remember this, middle child of mine, because it was special to me. You didn’t know it at the time and neither did I, that it would stay with me for the rest of my life.

How can we know?

These special moments of mothering slip by, most often unnoticed. And that’s the way, I think, it was designed. Each moment in time, no matter how big or small, has a way of grabbing hold of our mother’s hearts and never letting go.

My Daughter

motherhood
July 30, 2016

Yesterday was my daughter’s birthday. My first born. She was away for her birthday, helping at a camp for the mentally and/or physically handicapped. She volunteers every year at this camp. She always comes home stretched in new ways and saying she may not go back next year. But we both know she will.

She has a gift.

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I have posted about my daughter a few times over the years. My Daughter is My Hero is one such post. She still is. She takes the gifts and talents she has been given for granted. She underestimates how powerful they are; how important she is to so many people.

Another gift that emerges every now and then in my daughter’s life is the gift of expressing herself in writing. One Step Too Slow is one such example. She allowed me to share that essay on my blog.

Stuttering has been a part of my daughter’s life for most of her speaking life. This is one of the reasons she is my hero. Stuttering 2 was written, in part, about my daughter. She is so much more fluent than she once was. No one really knows why. No one really cares. No one really knows if the change is permanent or not. It hasn’t changed my daughter at all, except that she is grateful for the opportunity to be more fluent, to speak more easily to those who are listening.

The thing is, I once spent time praying that my daughter would no longer stutter. How selfish. Not selfish because it was for my benefit, but selfish because I thought I knew what was best for my daughter.

Silly me.

I love this woman who was once a babe in my arms. She is one of the best gifts I have ever received. I am grateful for her on many occasions, but yesterday was her birthday and I wanted to take the time to acknowledge how special she is.

The world is a better place because she is in it.

Happy Birthday to my daughter.

Favorite Things

motherhood
July 25, 2016

Do you remember one of the songs in The Sound of Music?

Raindrops on roses

And whiskers on kittens

Bright copper kettles

And warm woolen mittens

Brown paper packages tied up with string, these are a few of my favorite things.

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I was sitting in a drive-thru line at McDonald’s the other day and heard a mother place an order for a Happy Meal. This took me back to a few of my favorite things.

My friend, Jan (my dear friend who passed away), said on more than one occasion that she would go back to the time when her three daughters were small and she was homeschooling them all, in a minute. I concur.

I watched this single mom (there was no ring on her finger as she reached out again and again to retrieve the ordered food from the drive-thru window), doling out the drinks, the Happy Meal boxes, the straws to each of her three kids in the car and I all at once felt sorry for this single mom of three, and envious. She was doing what I used to do, in a haggard, haphazard way as we were hurrying off to get to the next event, the next dance class, the next sporting or band practice, a friend’s house or home after a busy day…

Favorite things…

At that very moment, just like my friend Jan, I would have gone back, if only for a minute or two. I miss those three small kids.

Jan didn’t really care who knew or if it was the “healthy” thing to long for, and today, neither do I.

My daughter, I see everyday, though she tends to keep busy working her job and volunteering with teens and those who are disabled.

My son who graduated and moved to a different state, I see a couple of times a month. We exchange texts once or twice a week, especially if he needs help with a new recipe.

And my youngest son who has spent the summer in Slovakia, due to return home in a few short weeks.

I miss those three small kids…

I’m sure I’m overlooking some of the things I didn’t enjoy about raising kids, I just can’t seem to think of them now as my mind is focused on those favorite things.

Is it a sad testament of what my life has become as I stroll down the lanes that hold those favorite things? Aren’t I supposed to be enjoying these golden years of empty nesting?

I think it matters not if I am or not.

Because today, my mind is in that McDonald’s drive-thru lane, ordering those crazy meals, served with a side of my favorite things.

Are You a Helicopter Mom?

motherhood
July 18, 2016

Are you a helicopter mom? This is a relatively new term to me. I have heard it several times over the last few months but since my kids are grown I didn’t pay much attention. I sort of figured out what a helicopter mom is, but for the sake of argument let’s start by defining the term.

Helicopter mom: (dictionary.com) a style of child rearing in which an overprotective mother discourages a child’s independence by being too involved in the child’s life.

Wikipedia puts a little different spin on it: helicopter mom is a mother who pays extremely close attention to a child’s or children’s experiences and problems, particularly at educational institutions. Helicopter moms are thus named because, like helicopters, they hover overhead, overseeing their child’s lives.

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I think it’s safe to say that there are certain ages that being a helicopter mom is not only acceptable but also necessary to the well-being and safety of the child. From birth to kindergarten age, for instance. It is extremely important to be present, fully engaged and overseeing almost every facet of your child’s life. They depend on you to be there for not only their basic needs, but to help them maneuver the many new and different things they will encounter during those early years.

There comes a time, however, when it becomes important to the emotional healthy development of the child to…well, STOP HOVERING!

There, I said it!

I must confess there was a time that I would have been considered a helicopter mom. In fact, in my heart I may always be a helicopter mom. Let’s face it, what mother wants to see their children go through tough times? Yeah, me either~

But it’s necessary to loosen those reigns and let the kid experience life in all it’s pain and glory.

Isn’t that what parenting is all about? Isn’t it our jobs as moms and dads to allow our kids to experience the consequences of their decisions in a loving and caring atmosphere? There’s one thing for sure, the world is a crazy, hard place. It doesn’t really care if your kid makes the team, is left out of a group or outing, doesn’t get the job, the scholarship, the medal they deserve. The world could care less if your kid gets a broken heart, loses a job, becomes an addict, falls in with the wrong crowd.

Here’s another thing you can take to the bank…it doesn’t matter how much hovering you do, your helicopter mom act is only going to protect your kid from so much, because if your child decides they are going to do something, they will find a way, no matter how hard you try to prevent them from doing so.

And if you really think you have control over your kids, you are sadly mistaken.

You have very little control over your own life, much less the life of another, no matter how much you love them or want to protect them.

They need to know what we expect as parents. We need to share our beliefs and values with our kids and the reasons behind them. We need to be the ones to tell them about drugs, sex, alcohol and any other important topic in their young lives.

But if we think we can protect them from every”bad” thing that comes their way, we’re not doing them any favors. In fact, we are doing them more harm than good.

Helicopter moms are women who love their kids with a fierce devotion, who want the best for their kids, so much so that they are willing to sacrifice the emotional well-being of the kids, even though they are not even aware that’s what they are doing. It’s important to be able to detach from your own insecurities and self-worth issues to do the best thing for the kids.

And being a helicopter mom isn’t in the best interest of anyone.

Mothers Listen

motherhood
July 5, 2016

Mothers listen to the sounds of their children.

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They listen with their ears.

They listen with their hearts.

They listen to the words spoken, sometimes between gulps and breaths between sobs.

They listen to the silence.

They listen to the banter and the make-believe.

They listen to the sing-song way they talk to their stuffed animals.

They listen to the way they express their sadness, their anger, their fears.

They listen as they say their prayers.

They listen to their squeals of delight for whatever reason.

They listen to their voices blending with the songs being played.

They listen to their worries and their stress.

They listen to their voices changing into that of young adults.

Mothers listen to the joy of finding their first love.

They listen to the pain of a broken heart.

Mothers listen to the creak of the stairs, the closing of the door.

They listen to the gentle breathing as they sleep.

They listen to the words that are spoken about a special event or achievement.

They listen to their names being announced as they graduate from high school and then college.

They listen as they plan their weddings, and to life-long vows they make.

They listen to the excitement of buying their first home.

They listen especially close with the announcement of an expected child.

They listen to those voices from oh so long ago. The echos that remain forever etched in the memories.

They listen as they love.

Always love.

Mothers listen.

New First Times

motherhood
May 5, 2016

Life is full of many first times. The first time you stay away from home as a kid. The first time you go on a date or drive alone. The first time you have a child, and all the first times that entails.

Now I am experiencing new first times. I experienced a new first time Saturday evening.

I knocked on my son’s front door.

I have just entered a new phase in life. And knocking on the front door of one of my children was a definite first.

This photo is not my son’s front door. I actually didn’t take a picture of his front door (I would of if I had thought of it), and it wasn’t actually his front door. It is his only door. He lives in an apartment.

For some reason I never pictured knocking on my kid’s front door.

And now I have.

Another first just happened today. My son came for a visit. Okay, actually my son came to do his laundry but why split hairs? He’s here. We visited and…he did laundry.

So many firsts in a parent’s life. All those firsts of growing up. I didn’t think about the firsts that would take place when they left home.

I’m pretty sure there are more first times I will encounter as a mother of adult children. Some I have dreamed of and some I’m sure have never even entered my mind.

There is another first coming my way in just a few weeks. I will drive my youngest son to the airport and sit with him until he boards. He will have a connecting flight to Denver where he will catch a flight to Europe. My son will be flying across the big pond alone, for the first time. And I am learning to be okay with that.

What other choice do I have?

But that’s life. Change. Growth.

Kids grow up.

They move out, whether across the river to a different state, or an ocean away.

They start families of their own.

As a mother, I get the opportunity to grow some more.

Because of all these new first times.

How to Raise a Boy

motherhood
May 2, 2016

If you read my blog on a somewhat regular basis you’ve probably caught on to the fact that I love my kids. They are the best parts of me. My entire life revolved around them in those early years. How can it not? But as they grew, I grew too, and part of the growing was letting go…

My oldest son (and middle child) is moved out a few days ago. But you know that, right? No? You can read about it here: My son is leaving the nest.

Thoughts of how to raise a boy have been flashing through my mind, especially these last few days that my son is still living under the same roof as me.

I came across this post from Your Modern Dad entitled 10 Rules to Raising the Man You Want Your Son to Be. I loved this line in his post: Becky & I just want the best of both worlds. We are trying to raise men that are both gentle, yet strong.

Who could ask for a better son than one who is gentle and kind, yet strong?

Are we raising our boys to be like that? Did I?

Times have changed. I’m not saying that’s a good thing or a bad thing. It’s just a thing. A fact. I’m sure the same could be said for any generation. How to raise a boy is not any different today than it was a hundred years ago, and yet, it kinda is.

It occurred to me as I was reading Your Modern Dad’s post that the 10 rules he listed could be applied to raising children period. Because kindness, gentleness, loving, honest, loyal and there for you traits aren’t gender-focused, in this non-gender- focused age in which we live. These are character traits I want all my kids to have, my sons and my daughter.

So how to raise a son really just boils down to raising a person who is a well-rounded human being. A person with a good sense of self, yet not selfish.

A person who is kind, yet not a push-over.

A person who is thoughtful, yet has the ability to say “No” when that is the best thing to say.

A person who is gentle, yet strong.

A person who understands the value of relationships.

And I could go on.

I won’t.

I will end this post by telling you that Your Modern Dad has a lot of good stuff on his blog.

And…my youngest child and other son is leaving for an internship in Europe in May for the summer. You can bet there will be more posts like this…

Honor to Be a Mother

motherhood
April 16, 2016

It is an honor to be a mother, I thought as I came across this graphic on Facebook just the other day. It stirred my soul. The Better Mom is the source of the graphic and it so reminded me of my friend, Jan.

I have written about Jan a few times. She was my very dear, and oldest friend. We knew each other most of our lives, although we didn’t become good friends until we were adults and mothers ourselves.

Jan was very intentional about mothering. These words-they describe who she was as a mother. She relished her role as a grandma too, however, she told me on more than one occasion when we would get together, how desperately she missed being a younger mom to her three beautiful daughters, especially during those homeschool days gone by.

Jan was the type of mother and homeschool mom we all worked to be like, or at the very least, wished we were somewhat like.

There was only one Jan.

There is only one you, too. Precious and unique.

We all have a Jan in our lives, and that’s a good thing! Once I got past being in awe of her mad mothering/homeschooling skills I was able to relax and just get to know the wonderful person that she was, and in doing so, come to accept myself a little more.

And I realized as I read this graphic and allowed it to take me to a place of sadness for the loss of my dear friend, I was able to yield to the words and let them work their magic in me.

I was able to let the words of encouragement and love, fill my heart as a woman and as a mother. I sat in silence and soaked in the wisdom of these words I read on the graphic.

Motherhood isn’t rare. It isn’t a role bestowed on the sacred few. Any female can become a mother. But to embrace the challenge of becoming a treasured legacy is indeed an intentional, purposeful lifestyle. What a precious opportunity we mothers have be given, time to shape, mold and build a relationship with those we cherish the most.

Am I alone in these thoughts? Perhaps I look upon motherhood as such a gift because it was ten long, heart-breaking years before I conceived my oldest child.

Although I’m pretty sure that it would take a lifetime to “get over” the loss of my friend, I embrace the gift that it was, and accept the treasure that mothering is all about, as I allow time, and the love that I have been given by a Power greater than myself, to bestow this gift on my children.

I am grateful.

It is an honor to be a mother.