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A Tribute To My MotherMar 18 '00 Write an essay on this topic.My mother died when I was 16, long before I became a mother myself. After she died I found 3 worn sheets of legal paper with ramblings of motherhood scribbled on it in my mother's impeccable handwriting. I kept these papers, but at the time had no way of understanding them because I was not a mother myself. Now that I am married and have been a stay-at-home mom for almost 4 years I can read it and feel the same emotions that my mother must have felt when she wrote them. To my mother: Thank you for the many difficult years you spent raising six crazy children. Thank you for giving up your dreams and ambitions to give us the time and attention we needed. Thank you for being a college educated woman and inspiring me to do the same. Thank you for your Key Lime Pie and French Cabbage Soup. Thank you for writing these words. You must have known that one day I would need them. I miss you and I love you. Written by Anne R. Connery, 10/26/78, 11:00 p.m.: On Being A Mother: Being a mother is: Yelling "Don't put that kitty in the sink" to a 3-yr-old. Treading lightly around your sixteen year old who has just broken up with "the love of her life". Trying to keep a straight face when your kindergartener tells you the green paint she is using is really shampoo. Giving a hug and a kiss and a "that's O.K. honey" to a nine year old who has just inadvertently embarrassed you, when your first instinct is to kill her. Telling your two year old to "get that banana out of the bathtub". Getting up enough nerve to say no to the PTA request when you know your kids really need you more at home. Being happy inside when your first born nineteen year old moves to his own apartment and you find that he can get up in the morning to go to work all by himself. Being able to tell a C grade child that she's done just as well as the brighter A grade one. The glow that comes from homemade presents. Comforting a seven year old whose pet cat has died. Immediately signing a form to take two gerbils (1 male and 1 female) from school for the summer even though you know you are the only one who will do it and you'll end up with 28 gerbils by the time summer vacation is over. Trying to see all your children objectively when you know it's impossible. Loving your kids always, but not liking them occasionally. Seeing them born. Hoping they will grow up to be responsible decent happy people (even if you know they could have been President). Resisting the temptation to compare your children with each other. Being grateful for the loss of memory that enables you to do the above. Telling your teenagers "you think you're bored, I have cleaned off this table 20,000 times in 21 years" and their response is "yeah ma, we know (yawn)". After having small children at home for 21 years being thrilled to death to be able to work one day a week at the elementary school clinic. Note: I've figured out that this comes from not being able to quit "being needed" cold turkey. Feeling good that yours is the only house on the block where all the kids are allowed to come in and play (House Beautiful call me in fifteen years). Sometimes thinking that Zero Population Growth really has the right idea. Treasuring the look on the face of your early maturing nine year old when you buy her a training bra without her having to ask for one. Rejoicing that each of your 6 children have different personalities while at the same time wishing you had a PhD in Psychology to deal with them. Carting 8 kids to a field to launch a rocket while leaving all the dirty dishes in the kitchen (and being really glad to because you really hate dishes and this is a good excuse). Explaining to kids that just because people do things differently does not mean these people are wrong. Telling your child that you can be wrong just like anyone else (this is a hard one). Having to tell all your kids who are taller than you to "sit down, I want to yell at you". Being proud when they get their driver's license and dying when they take the car. Hurting inside when you know someone else can help your child more than you can. Being glad that you recognize this before it's too late. Helping your kids with homework when you'd much rather be reading the new Time magazine. Giving your husband and you a Christmas present of a weekend at a motel (local so you're only two minutes away) to get away from all of this.  |
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