I am a Mother.
This isn’t a secret. It’s nothing you don’t already know.
I have kids – three healthy, happy, wildly sweet children and one little Baby due this summer. I have Angel Babies – one little boy named Dax and three little Loves I never got to name. I have Furbabies – Daisy Dog and Maxwell, a cat. I even have an Angel Furbaby – Harley Ann, my first “child” who introduced me to a new way of life where everything didn’t revolve around me. 9 years of a lifetime were spent Mothering that bratty Corgi, 9 years of a lifetime spent learning how to love something other than myself.
I have a Mother.
This is also very public knowledge. My Mom knows people.
My Mom and I are different people. We look different, we enjoy different things. I’m loud and I talk too much. She is reserved and thinks a lot. She loves gardening and I hate dirt. She is a fabulous cook and I burn boiling noodles. She teaches other people’s kids and I hide from them. She avoids small talk and I create it.
My Mom and I are the same person. We are both stubborn. We have strong opinions that we aren’t afraid to support or defend. She taught me how to be loyal and protective. She showed me how to be brave. She encouraged me to seek independence and to always pursue a life of honesty and integrity. We value respect, we value strength. We both struggle with emotional vulnerability and we really don’t like accepting that we can’t do everything that we’ve ever wanted to do without anyone’s help…ever.
We are both Doers.
We are both Leaders.
We are both dramatically sarcastic.
We are both Jesus Lovers.
We are caretakers and need-fillers and lunch-givers. We are get-it-doners and DIYers. We appreciate our bodies for what they do for us, not necessarily how they look in the process. We have both birthed children, we have both lost children. We have both fallen in love with men we may not have ever planned to. We have both chosen our families over our selves and our desires and our talents time and time again.
My Mom and I don’t always agree or get along. I’m pretty sure I picked up just enough genetics from my Dad to drive her a little more than sort of crazy. But she’s my Mom and I love her and she has to love me because that’s what Moms do…
…even when their kids are sarcastic little shits who grow up to be sarcastic BIG shits.
I know Mothers.
We all do. You’re probably a Mother. In my mind, even if you’re currently living in a home where there are thriving houseplants…you are a Mother.
#youareamazing #ikillalltheplants #plantmurderer #accidentalhomicide #accidentalHERBicide??
In this current age of feelings and offenses and bathroom signs, it’s hard to know what you can and cannot say or do or even suggest or think. ESPECIALLY on “holidays”. I usually just try my hardest to be kind and hope that I will have the opportunity to talk things through with anyone I might hurt or offend or bother.
(( I actually feel guilty typing that out…because it’s not entirely true. ))
I love people, until they are behind the wheel of a vehicle. I really shouldn’t expand on that just now but know that I’m working on it. Sort of…I am…really…
#roadrageisreal #alltheagression #butanyway #movingon
I have seen so many articles about Mother’s Day and the people who “can” and “cannot” enjoy the festivities. I’ve been told, rather boldly, that I should not and CANNOT celebrate Motherhood too publicly because of those who I may hurt. I’ve stood silently and listened as a friend told me that I could never understand the pain of miscarriage because I have living children.
“Don’t you DARE ever tell me you understand what I’m going through. You have no idea.”
There have been friends who have been told that they may never be able to become Mothers – for one reason or another. Some women, some of the BEST women I have ever known, will not physically ever be able to bring life into this world.
If I had not experienced my own health issues and miscarriages, you can be damned sure I would be the first to sign up to carry babies for those women.
Some women have Furbabies. Some have nieces and nephews they take extra time to help Mother and love and raise. Some are adoptive Moms. Some are Foster Moms. Some are Mothers in that they financially support children they may never meet.
THE MOTHERING ROLES ARE ENDLESS.
(( If you’d like to be convinced that Mothering can be applied to ENDLESS situations…look up the definition of “Mother” and be amazed. ))
This Mother’s Day, I’m spending it in and out of my bed. So far I’ve eaten breakfast and then barfed my breakfast all over my bathroom. I’ve cleaned my bathroom and put on new clothes. I’ve sneezed so many times that I’ve successfully managed to create a pee-covered laundry mountain full of bed sheets and huge, maternity undies and all of the pajama pants I own. My husband is working and my Sister is doing my dishes and making sure our kids all stay alive. I have a cold and I can’t do anything about it but sniffle and whine and consume all of the lemon-honey yucky-suckies I can find.
#lozenges #yuckysucky #samething
I bought myself a candle from my fave candle store but somehow ended up bringing home the wrong candle. I wanted a Pineapple one to light during my “2-hour-soak-in-the-bath-no-kids-allowed-me-time” so I could escape to somewhere tropical…and instead I have one that smells like clean laundry and sponges…which just makes me think of how UNCLEAN my house is.
My kids are blissfully unaware that today is meant for worshiping the ground I walk on. Daisy Dog jumped up onto the bed and burped her kid-cereal-dog-breathe in my face before curling up beside me on my pillow and squeaking out a nasty fart as she sighed in sweet relief, settling peacefully into her 3rd nap time of the day. There are no fancy bouquets of flowers or boxes of chocolates to post to Insta. I won’t be sharing any exciting vacation pictures this time or talking about the brunch I enjoyed after a lovely church service. And it don’t mean a thang.
Because in the middle of this mess, my heart is content.
This, for me, is what Mothering looks like.
This, for me, is what LIFE looks like.
AND THIS is why later today I will be treating myself to my regular Large Hot 6-Shot German Chocolate Mocha – compliments of my husband’s debit card – and I will tell him it’s because I am celebrating being a Mother.
And if he didn’t want me spending $5 on extra shots of espresso in a cup, he should have sent me flowers.
(( HAROLD **COUGH** THAT’S YOU ))
(( PLEASE NOTE – Don’t be hot and bothered because you posted beautiful pictures of expensive flowers to your Insta and I did NOT. They are lovely and you are lovely and you just enjoy the loveliness of those flowers because THAT IS YOUR MOTHER’S DAY!! ❤ Embrace it!! Love it!! And don’t let anyone’s LACK of pretty petals make yours any less fantastic. ))
What is Mother’s Day like for you?
Are you one of the women who has been told you can’t celebrate today?
Since when do you care what people say you CAN and CANNOT do?
Mothers are everywhere. Celebrate them. Cheers a Mother as you sip a glass of Pinot at lunch today. Maybe even let her have a sip…but don’t let her hold the glass. You may not get it back.
Are you one of the women shielding a broken heart from a world full of baby bumps and pregnancy glow?
Talk about it. Message me. Raise your hand and let someone know.
Chances are, you’re not alone. Yes, I have living children. They are alive and well and they have plenty of noise, dirt and mess to prove it. But I also have my own Angel Babies. I have suffered through moments of wondering if I would ever know another child or hold another little hand or smell the sweetness of Newborn skin.
I cannot understand everyone’s story, not in a way where I can truly know your heart or your pain…because I’m not you.
But I can sure try to listen and encourage and I can feed you burnt noodles and old coffee and let you squeeze whichever of my kids you can catch for as long as you can get them to sit still. And I will say stuff or not. I will hug you or just cry with you. I can even just exist in the same room as you or sit quietly on the other end of a phone call or message if all you really need is just to know your broken heart isn’t broken alone.
#myHeartHasScars #imagoodlistener #andbettertalker
Celebrate today. Enjoy today. You have a desire to become a Mother for a reason.
There is a love in your soul because you are meant to share it.
In the meantime, don’t be alone.
I’ll be here, if nothing or nobody else comes along. Always.
You know, there really isn’t a right or wrong way to celebrate today. People can tell you to knock it off or keep to yourself or don’t be too loud or whatever…
Even as I laid my Dax into the hands of my Heavenly Father, I stood by the side of a friend and then a family member as they welcomed healthy, happy little sweet-smelling Newborns. One of them welcomed her son on the same day I could have welcomed mine.
And never did I ever think that she shouldn’t celebrate in her joy because of my loss.
(( Of course it’s best to remember that everyone grieves in their own way. Everyone experiences loss in their own way. Even the friend who bitterly threw me from her life because of her own sadness…I can’t be the person she needs right now. And that’s ok. But it’s also ok to step away and move on to find people who can and will celebrate with me. Try your best not to take bitterness from brokenhearted people too personally…it isn’t you, it’s pain ))
YOU ARE ALLOWED TO EXPERIENCE TODAY.
In whatever way you need or want or feel.
Please just remember that EVERYONE is allowed that same thing.
Friends, don’t be lonely today. Don’t be silent today. Don’t be sad today.
Even if you’re one of my friends who can’t even think about Motherhood because that whole thing just isn’t your jam…
Maybe you’re watering your window plants above your kitchen sink and you’re humming to yourself as you celebrate your green thumb and the sweet, sweet joy of knowing your plant babies will never talk back to you…or poop…or step on your toes.
Find another Plant Mommy and celebrate your pretty plants together.
Happy Mother’s Day, Friends.
Find a Mother. Be a Mother. Love a Mother. Cheers a Mother.
Thank God for Mothers.
Thank God you’re NOT a Mother.
Buy a coffee for a Mother.
Talk to a Mother.
Reach out to those you KNOW might need a Mother.
And – lastly – if you’d like to celebrate ME, because you’re just that kind of person – I wouldn’t mind if someone anonymously or publicly or magically made chinese food appear on my doorstep sometime today.
#yourethebest #really #sweet&sourchickenplease #porkfriedriceEXTRAonions #loveMothers #todayandeveryday #especiallyME!!