Listen up, young moms, this is for you! I sit here today writing this, just days away from it being my last Mother’s Day with children living in our home. Our baby has grown up and is about to fly. I’ve been at this motherhood gig for almost 3 decades now. I think about our oldest daughter who is doing such a phenomenal job at raising our first grandchild but how often she needs a cheerleader.
Category Archives: mother’s day
We all have a mom.
This is a simple fact of life. We may call her mother, birth mom, mama, or mommy but we all came from a woman’s womb. No matter our age or situation, I believe every kid longs to have a mother that makes them feel loved and special. Kids don’t need perfection. I don’t even think kids expect perfection. We might catch ourselves saying, “I wish my mom was . . .” or “I wish my mom would . . .” Or we might catch ourselves saying, “I’m so glad my mom was . . .” or “I’m so thankful my mom did . . .” Sometimes we realize this by having the mom of our dreams and sometimes we realize this by having a mom who is not the stuff dreams are made of. Regardless, we all have moms and there is something to be grateful for—even if simply our heartbeat. Each of our lives has a purpose. We can rejoice in the healthy relationships we’ve had with our moms and give ourselves permission to grieve the relationships we might wish we’d had.
We moms go through most of our years wondering if we’re doing anything right. Wondering if we’re screwing up our kids. Wondering if they hear anything we’re saying. Wondering if they have any clue how much we love them. As a seasoned mom and with only one left at home (and even she has one foot already out of the nest) I can look over my past mom years and wonder no more.
I feel about Mother’s Day sort of how I feel about Valentine’s Day. I am really not fond of all the hype and the marketing ploys of these days at all. They both come with such high expectations that are nearly impossible to meet. But here’s a story about a time long ago when I didn’t feel the way I feel now. When my own expectations were impossible. Unvoiced. Unmet.