Wednesday, May 6, 2015

~Thought for the Day~ Welcome To The Hood- Motherhood ©

  In honor of Mother’s Day 2015, I have decided to write about pickles. No, seriously, I think I should address being a Mom; but a pickle would be nice, now that it has presented itself. 
I have wanted to write this piece for a while, and now, here I am!  Just for a hearty laugh, I looked up the definition of “Mother”. Are you ready? Oh, and yes, I looked in more than one source. 
“Mother- a female parent.” 

Ha! 
 Holy C-section! Really? A mother encompasses far more than gender, and I have the stretch marks to prove it. 

I have survived. I mean, I am proud to say that I have been a Mom for almost 21 years now. Good Lord, when I say it like that, I see my gray hairs starting to cringe. 

I was 5 when I had my eldest son. Ok, fine, I was 21 when I gave birth to my big kid. I was so naive and new to motherhood. I had this image in my mind of what life as a mother would be, and I will tell you right now, it has been the best thing in my life. However, it’s not as June Cleaver-like as you’d think. Bless her heart, she wore an apron with pearls, and I am lucky if I dry my hands with my shirt and get my hair brushed, for the last 20 years. 
I am going to give you two sides to this: one from a perspective of being a Mother, of course, and also that of being a daughter.  
Being a Mother isn’t just a title, it is a lifetime commitment to help shape and mold lives. I take it very seriously, actually, but in order to survive the rough times, you must also pack a sense of humor along with your barf bag and extra tissues. 
I have learned that I can clean a dirty bottom while explaining the laws of gravity to a toddler, and all the while eating a sandwich. 

I have learned to pick my battles. This one took a while; some things you can preach about, and you can stress over, but you can’t change, so why waste your screams on those things? Let them slide, and save up for the big stuff that will actually matter five years from that point in time. 
I have learned that there is no greater joy in life than to feel little arms (well, big arms, now, with mine taller than me,) around your neck, and to hear that innocent “I love you” come out of their mouths. It makes you tear up; it gives you chills, because it is sincere. 

I have learned that sometimes you have to stop everything you are doing, important or not, to just listen. Whether it be a crisis of not finding “that shirt”, or simply because they want your time; that time can never be gotten back, and is the simplest act that can leave a child with a feeling of love and care. Someone listened. They have a voice, and they have been heard. That feeling will linger within them forever. 

I have learned that, that funky colored piece of pottery from elementary art class, the hand drawn portrait of Mom and child that depicts you with a deformed head and impossibly long arms waving with a crooked smile, a handful of weeds with the roots attached, and that song they sing to you and all the words are wrong, are what become your most treasured possessions. 

I have learned that mud, worms, and dirt under your fingernails are essential to childhood, and if Mom participates, that only adds to the experience and teaches them that life can be simply fun. 

I have learned that sometimes you can’t be their friend, and you have to tell them when they aren’t doing something that is pleasing, correct or is wrong. Kids need guidance, whether they know it or not, and the earlier we guide them, the better they become. 

I have learned that the phases pass, thank the Good Lord! The jet black hair dye, the weird clothes, and what I refer to as “kill-your-Mama-music” all pass. Just let them express themselves a little, and as they become adults, they will feel they were allowed to be themselves and open-minded. I am not saying to let them dress like hookers, but, hey, I think we all went through the ripped jeans and metal t-shirt era. (Ok, well, I still do some days.) 

I have learned that nobody on this earth can break your heart like your own child. Most of the time, they aren’t even aware. We cry at times when they can’t see, and hope that someday they realize Mom is more than a fossil, she has more feeling than a rock, and she loves you more than anything in the world. 
I have learned that some days, you just have to stop everything and be silly. The dishes will wait, but the chance to dance to around the kitchen like idiots is a memory you can’t get back. You have to grab a spoon microphone, some plastic bags for hats, or whatever you have handy, and just dance, why? Because you can. 

I attribute any skills I learned about being a Mom to my wonderful Mama. She led me by example, and what a glorious 38 years we spent together. Being on the flip side of parenting, this is what I learned as a daughter. 
I have learned that a Mother’s love knows no bounds. They will pounce like a tiger if their child feels threatened, no matter their age. They will soothe you from the cradle, until you are lulled not by a lap anymore, but by the sense of them just being there. 

I have learned that Moms make so many sacrifices for their children, and they do it silently and want nothing in return.

I have learned that my Mother saw in me something I can’t even begin to understand. There was a gleam when we would look at each other, pride in her eyes as she gazed at me. There is no feeling to match that of feeling so perfect and so priceless to another human soul. 

I have learned that my Mama had faith the size of the Grand Canyon, possibly bigger. At the time, it seemed so unimaginable, but as I age, I can see why, how, and most importantly, I see the legacy she left me to follow. 

I have learned that all those times I rolled my eyes and thought she was crazy, she was crazy. I made her that way, but the lessons she was teaching will last. They had staying power, and they will continue to teach me for the rest of my days. 

I have learned that when you make your Mama cry, be it for disappointment, joy, or sadness, it is almost as if time stands still. You are mesmerized by her show of emotion. 

I have learned (the hard way) that when you make your Mom mad, you would rather be attacked by red fire ants, as you lie slathered in tar and feathered. There is no wrath stronger than an angry Mother, and you cannot escape it.  

I have learned that even though my sweet Mama is no longer on this earth, she still is my girl. She lives in my heart, my actions, and my soul; and I must do my best to make her proud every day I am given. 

There you go; some things I have learned. 

Mother’s Day is coming quickly. If you are blessed enough to still have your Mother, celebrate her. She doesn’t require anything fancy; just being remembered, thanked, and made to feel genuinely needed is all us Moms ever want. I do need some new “out there” art pieces to grace my desk, though. 
Call her, go see her, write her. Just don’t let the day come and go without thanking her, hugging her if you can, and letting her feel special, because she is the very one who carried you when you couldn’t go it on your own. 
Here are my thoughts. 
Teresa  ;)

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