It is that time of year again, that time to honor mothers. I generally post a tribute to my own mother on this day. She has been gone for eleven years now but she is still very much in my thoughts – today and most every other day of the year.
However, despite my admiration for my mother’s dedication, determination, and efforts to keep us alive and in line to adulthood, my Mother’s Day post this year isn’t really about her. 🙄
This year my Mother’s Day post is about me and my life as a mother (and grandmother).
Being the mother of infants, toddlers, and preschoolers was the greatest experience of my life. My littles were perfect, adorable, innocent wee souls. As a bonus, I was blessed with the endless strength and stamina to keep them fed and clothed, clean and happy. AND as if that was not bonus enough – I got to prove that, having learned from all of the mistakes that my own mother made raising me, I could and would do MUCH better raising mine.
The years of elementary school were still pretty doable. All three of my kids made it safely from one grade to the next. I started working full-time, I did everything I could to give my parents the help they needed when my father developed cancer and the four years of hell that entailed, but my kids were always first and foremost. Again, I kept them fed and clothed, cared for, and cleaned up after – as well as attending their concerts, school, and sporting events. Go Mom!
With their early teen years, came major changes in our lives. My father passed away and shortly thereafter I took my kids, our dog, and my favourite plant – precious little else – and moved across the city from their father. The first year and a half we lived on a wish and a prayer.
We lived in a lower level duplex (basement apartment if you want to get technical). I started working two full time jobs. My kids were great, as were their friends – a number of whom soon became regular members of our little family. I kept them all fed, kept mine clothed and in school(s). Three separate schools because they had very different preferences. I saved and took us and my mother on a week’s vacation to a summer resort. I bought a much newer and more reliable vehicle (A shiny turbo charged Silver & Black convertible). And I moved us into a true side by side duplex with a full finished basement, two bathrooms, and an amazing laundry room. I bought our very own barbecue and lawnmower. We had room to spare, which my kids filled with more of their friends – who I fed on a regular basis.
My kids were fed, clothed, clean and happy! I was THE MOM – the mom that full grown adults wished they had.
Finally, I met and married Dan. He loved me, he loved my family and he was, and is, there for all of us.
And then, all too soon, my kids were all grown up. They moved out, married, and had their own kids – adorable, affectionate, brilliant kids (who love me and adore Grandpa Dan). And then… my kids were suddenly hell bent on being the parent I apparently never was. No repeating my mistakes, no stressing over mismatched socks or broken curfews, no serving up fish sticks and jellied salad.
The more they realized just how inadequate I was as a parent, the more they realized that it was I who was responsible for every bad decision they had ever made and every challenge that life had ever presented. Good times!
To be honest – they all turned out to be responsible adults and really good parents who do their best to be the best parent their kids could have. But, these last years have hardly been living the dream family wise.
The good news is that things are improving. I am on good terms with one son and my daughter – and with their families and significant others. Unfortunately, my family is a work in progress, but here’s hoping and praying.
Seclusion 101 with AnneMarie 