RE: This emotionally charged holiday--Mother's Day
I have this to say:
~Inasmuch as nine o'clock church has killed any futile hopes of breakfast in bed (which has occurred on maybe two occasions in the past 17 years), I am going to stay up very late tonight (read: early tomorrow morning) to clean my disaster of a kitchen and pre mix a big batch of crepe batter. I vow to selflessly--and, most sincerely with no strings attached--prepare and serve crepes for breakfast tomorrow morning.
~Although I am generally fairly successful on most Mother's days at 1). having low expectations in order NOT to be disappointed 2). refusing to pick up and bear any guilt that may--intentionally or otherwise--be laid at my feet and 3). most especially trying NOT to lay a burden of guilt on my own dear children...it's pretty much a crap shoot on any given year how it will go.
I have therefor taken a preemptive strike and had my meltdown TODAY! It's over. Whew! Tomorrow is just another day. I will focus my efforts on trying to help my own mother feel special tomorrow. I need nothing else. From anyone.
Que cera, cera.
~My heart goes to those of you who--for whatever reason--suffer painfully on this day.
~My thanks goes to all my favorite sisters who love my kids abundantly and without condition.
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So today we had a lovely mother and daughter brunch with my L-'s activity day group.
Here is what I observed during the very fun three-legged race (which was followed by a round of dodgeball, in which we mothers mercilessly took down our daughters without hesitation or regret):
Scenario 1:
J- and her daughter B- were in perfect tandem. They actually ran the race the entire way. "One, two. One, two. One, two." Perfect rhythm and a decisive first-place win.
Scenario 2:
B- and her daughter K- had a different experience. Arms around one-another they got off to a good start. But tiny K- accidentally slipped out of the tie that bound her to her mother and excitedly ran ahead. And B-, with relief on her face, sat down to watch the finish.
Scenario 3, or, what happened to me:
L- resisted all my efforts to link my arms with hers. She refused to follow as I called out an orderly, "Step. Step. Step." And she quickly--and most deliberately shed the tie that bound her to me and raced ahead to the finish line unencumbered by a mother with a bad knee on one leg and a hole in her foot on the other.
I sat down to watch. And cheered her on.
At first I thought how nice it would be to be synchronous with my daughter. Like J- and B-. Just a moment of regret and self-reproach (I'm doing it wrong, I thought).
But then I realized that this is what I want. This is exactly how it is supposed to be.
She is destined to fly like the wind on her own way to whatever lies ahead for her.
She starting to learn who she is.
She knows what she wants.
And she's not looking back.
(But she will someday. And I know exactly when. It will be the same time I first took a moment to look back at my own mother--finally with a small sense of the bottomless depth in that deep pool of love and sacrifice that is motherhood--)
Run daughter. Run!
Saturday, May 13, 2006
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10 comments:
I think you hit on something: "I'm doing it wrong" is exactly the malady we all suffer in our own spheres on Mum's Day. Wow. Click! I got it. I'll likely still have a meltdown tomorrow when the Primary tribe sings those special songs, and when etc., etc., etc., but it'll be a more enlightened, globally-conscious sort of meltdown. (We know all about meltdowns at my house. You might say we're a professional meltdown squad.)
You sure did this post right. Thanks. Happy cleaning and crepes. I'm going to cook day-old chicken tomorrow, as a token of what I'm doing wrong!
Hear hear!
Raw post. LOVE it! Honesty is always the best policy - and that begins the healing if it's needed.
Thank you.
It's currently 1:43 pm and so far so good.
I did do crepes, being both slightly amused by and intrigued about how on any given year--depending on whatever place I am with myself--I can either go from complete despair that Mother's Day is just another day at my house to actually being able to pull off something as selfless as serving my family's favorite breakfast on a day when at the very least, I DO deserve breakfast in bed. Today I did it!
Maybe it's just a matter of being able to accept what is. And truly being content--and even grateful--with whatever that may be.
In a random coincidence of blogsister magic, selected male offspring of Lorien, Julie and myself played a rousing match of "My Mom Can Beat Up Your Mom" over the pulpit today.
Well, not really. But they all spoke and I was sufficiently impressed, entertained and touched all at the same time. I love that it is perfectly OK to laugh out loud in sacrament meeting. More than once even. I try not to make a habit of it, but since I cried, too, I think it's all good.
Aside from the tiny pangs of "Oh gosh, now I may actually have to grow up and be that good," it's been a fairly guilt-free day.
And I did my part for the campaign to increase male awareness of the inner workings of women.
I happened to mention something about the guilt and pain that frequently attacks women on this "special" day and returned the puzzled look of wonderment with what I hope was a helpful brief insight into all the stuff we carry--regardless of our circumstances--on this day. Do we choose to carry it? Or is it within us all along and on days like today it just has to work its way out for some reason? I dunno.
Oh, and I am also chewing on this:
L- took the beautiful rose her wonderful primary teacher provided for her to present to her mother and tried to give it to her friend's mother instead of her own.
A. L- is feeling especialy generous and thankful and didn't want her friend's mom to feel left out.
B. L- likes her friends' mothers more than she likes her own.
Today--at least for today--I'm going with option A.
Geo. I am going to set a goal for myself to make sure that in the future my meltdowns are globally-conscious meltdowns. I like that.
Hugs to all--
D-
This year (and every year) I am grateful that it is not Mother's Day three years ago. (I should write about that one...)
I'm not sure why there was no meltdown for me this year. I'm just feeling...grateful.
I was thinking of you today, too, before I read this. I've had it: let's meet!
PS - we got journals from the boys today. Mary Engelbright ("I'm a millionaire solely from the Mormons") journals.
Yeah, those talks were ones to remember. I liked that Lorien is a great mom--except when she yells--and that M- said "her loves me." I also loved the obvious respect that Luke holds for you and for all women, young and old. You rock, Dalene!
I think I'll post my son's talk on my blog. I asked him later, and he said he wrote basically the whole thing, with help from Phil only on the parts about Phil's mom. Wow! Do you think it looks too much like bragging to post his talk? I'm just do darn impressed with this kid of mine this week. I swear, God must have flipped a switch or something because he has been a blast to have around. Not perfect, mind you, but a lot of fun.
julie-i was talking to my mom today and she said she loved your sons talk especially since he had it on a palm pilot. he is more technically capable than i am!
sounds like i missed a great sacrament meeting.
i accidently posted the same comment twice. oops!
Julie--go for it--I was hoping you would. It's really blogworthy. But sadly we would miss one of my favorite parts of the talk. I loved it how he would look up after every paragraph and look at the audience and pause. It was priceless!
He had a good coach. (Phil)
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