Mother's Day and Me...

I was going to title this post "Ruminations on Mother's Day", but I used that big word on the last entry... Can't keep doing that...

So, today, I was thinking about being a mom. You know, when I was little, I never, ever thought about growing up, getting married and having kids myself... No doubt a result of my really miserable mother-child interactions as a kid. I did have a fantasy about being a kindergarten teacher, however... I really liked little kids, even when I was a young thing... (Maybe that was some deeply-hidden and disguised maternal instinct...) Anyway, I grew up, led an aimless (but exciting) life, and finally got married, again, at the ancient age of 32... Then, boom! The breeding instinct kicked in with a vengence! My husband and I never really discussed having children (at least as I recall), so it's unclear to me, sitting here right now, years later, how it was that I ended up getting pregnant. (Don't make any smart-alec replies, please, I'm not talking about the physical aspects of it...) But, I do remember checking the pregnancy test strip and feeling very weird when it showed "pregnant" ... Weird... Totally... Like, this can't really be happening... I don't think I was sick with my first pregnancy; in fact, I recall feeling wildly, hugely sexy, powerful and energetic! (I have photos of me, pregnant, and I think I looked a lot like a whale in drag...) I could only eat pizza -- and lots of it -- and drink Coca-Cola... Everything else made me queasy... I don't think I thought, a lot, about the whole transition that was to come, but I can't tell you why. The spouse and I went to all the childbirth prep class, but I thought it was all nothing to do with me.

And then, labor... Holy moley, talk about an eye-opening experience. Enough about that. Long story short, a day later, there I am, with this little thing squealing (quietly) in my arms. I don't think it hit me for a few years what I had done! Really! It just seemed pretty natural and non-dramatic. My son was the dream baby -- I thought all babies were like this, so I got pregnant, AGAIN. My daughter was a TOTALLY different experience from day one. And, it continues to be wildly different with each kid, to this day. If I wasn't totally conscious at both births, it would not seem conceivable that they came from the same set of parents.

Anyway where did I start with this post... Oh, yeah, Mother's Day... I still, sometimes, can't fathom what being a mother is all about. I keep thinking that, at some point, I'll wake up and I'll have a second chance to really be a mom. It has all gone by so fast... One day, they're little neonates, the next day they're all big and graduating college... What's up with that?

I think I've done a good job being a mom, all things considered. I didn't have a great role model, and my husband didn't have a great role model either, in terms of parenting... But, how many people do, really? I wonder about that... There are days I think everyone should go through some sort of (mandatory) parenting class(es)... But, how realistic is that... And, anyway, you never know how good a job you've done, really... I mean, the results last as long as your kids (and their kids) (if any) live... Usually, you're not there to know what's occurred. Or, even if you're alive, you'll never really know... It's kind of like tossing a message in a bottle into the ocean... you just don't know where it'll go, who'll find it, and where and/or when, and what impact (if any) that message will have. Or the message can be destroyed or eaten by a sea creature or whatever... Talk about a cosmic crap shoot...

Am I glad I went ahead and had children? Yes, I am. (Not that it would do me much good if I weren't glad... talk about barn doors and horses...) My children are fascinating to me. They have broken my heart and filled me with such love and joy, I can't even explain it. I don't consider them reflections on me, nor part of me. I think of myself as a vessel, through which they came into the world. They have no obligations to me, other than to be the best that they can be. Their failures are their own, their successes are their own. They are their own people. Individuals, whole and separate. I am thrilled that they seem to love me, and want to talk with me. (Believe me, given my history and my husband's history with our respective parents, that's HUGE...) I hope that they have good lives, find love, and have children if that's what they want to do...

So, yes, Mother's Day... I don't need brunch or flowers or something special. In fact, I cleaned up the tool room at our rental house, and shlepped pipe and wood and generally worked my butt off. It was fine. I cooked a great dinner, and had a nice glass of wine. I'm healthy, my hair looks good, my sense of humor is (basically) intact, and I have relatively full possession of my faculties... All in all, not too bad... Did I call my mom? Nope. Do I feel bad about that? Nope. Never even occurred to me... A shame, really, but that's the hand that was dealt to me. I wonder, sometimes, what cosmic lesson I'm meant to learn from all that...

I hope all of you are doing well, and enjoying the day (well, at this point, the evening)...

Cheers!