#Mother's Day, the not-so-perfect Day

The Perfect Mom

Is there a perfect mom?

YES

A June Cleaver?

A Margaret Anderson?

A Donna Reed?

A Jane Jetson

An Olivia Walton?

A Caroline Ingalls?

A Carol Brady?

A Claire Huxtable?

An Elyse Keaton?

A Laura Petrie?

A Marion Cunningham?

Are they real, NO !

Or Not so Perfect Mom to Bad Mom

An Estelle Costanza?

A Joan Crawford?   (Whoa, I’m not that bad)

Nancy Botwin (Weeds)

Roseanne Conner

We truly do believe we CAN be June Cleaver or Claire Huxtable when we think about becoming a mother and when the “Mom” journey begins, it’s all seen through rose-colored glasses. 

You cannot imagine how much love you have for that little bundle of joy.   It wraps around your whole body and soul.   Those first few days you cannot believe how much love you can have for one human being.  The love you feel in those first moments never, ever leaves.  You will always remember the first time you held that baby.  The tiny fingers and toes, the soft baby skin, the chubby cheeks, the sighs, the sweet baby smell, the first smile, the way they wrap that tiny hand around your finger and hold on for dear life.  You also, at that moment, believe and strive to be the “Perfect Mother”.

The moment you arrive home with that precious cargo, you sit and stare in amazement at this strange little creature.   The love explodes inside you and then the feeling hits like a bolt of lightening.   How am I going to do this?  Keep this being alive, safe, sheltered, fed, fix the boo boos, stop the runny nose, keep mean people away.   Already dreading the first day of Kindergarten when you have to wave goodbye and pray they are safe and happy.    You cry all the way home, your chest is heaving, your nose is running and the tears won’t stop.  Of course when they arrive home from their first day, they are full of excitement and joy and they never shed a tear.  They didn’t miss you, they didn’t need you, they laughed, ran, played and were happy as larks!

That is when you realize that the plan you had lost it’s oomph!  The bottom fell out.  The “Plan” is a crock.   Good intentions, that’s how it begins.  But we all know where that gets us. 

When the second baby comes along, all those feelings begin again.  How can you love this new baby as much as the first?  You DO and then comes another.   How can one person love another person so much?   No answer.   You just do.   And now there are three.  Same feelings, same worries, just multiplied by 3. 

Each child is a completely different human being, but all loved with as much intensity as the first.  You learn really quickly that the goals you set before the first new life appeared in your arms are set up for failure.   Life does have a plan, BUT YOU DON’T HAVE ANY CLUE what that plan really is. 

Making peace with chaos is a daily chore from sibling rivalry to what’s for dinner; are the clothes washed; has everyone had a bath; homework done; work; mopping; scraped knees; who did what to whom; who said what to whom; so-and-so can do it, why can’t I; I’ll ask daddy; daddy said it was OK; you are so mean; I hate you; I’m running away; did you get so-and-so a present; did you wrap that present; shut that door; hurry up; get in the car; you’re not wearing that to church; don’t talk to me like that, but, Mom, why?;  no, I won’t wear that; it’s stupid; I’m fat; look at my hair; daddy said I could; don’t tell mama;  you don’t know anything; stop looking at me; don’ touch me; get your gym clothes; get your lunch money; brush your teeth; DID you brush your teeth?;  ball game tonight,; are my baseball pants clean; I have a project in Science…due tomorrow; swim lessons; tennis lessons; Mom, why are you late; I have a date; I wanna go to the Mall; skating; parties; Mom, come get me; football games; driving lessons; driver’s license day; I love him/her; I hate him/her; I’m going to the Valentine’s dance; I’m going to the Prom; don’t drink; can I borrow your car?; High School Graduation; College…watching them pack all their worldly possessions and shoving them in a U-Haul truck, college bound and excited and scared, without me; and as soon as the truck left the driveway, I cried.

Eighteen years was gone in a flash.  What did I do right? What did I do wrong?  I should’ve but I didn’t.  GUILT…it never stops.  In those 18 years the other part of life happens, the illnesses, the deaths of loved ones, the marriages, the hosting parties, the storms, the alcoholism of a family member, the depression that has affected the family; the mourning; career worries; paying bills; all the things that happen behind the doors of every household, the fantasy life never existed.  Let go of the way you thought life would be because if you don’t, it will haunt you every day. Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve...stop it.

But wait, I skipped the teenage years, I guess in some cases, we all wish we could skip those years. Ha  Put it this way, hopefully you have taught them in the first twelve years how to behave, good values, kindness, how to treat other people, what to do and what not to do.   Just hold your breath through the next five years because it's a roller coaster ride including the screaming, the tears, the excitement, the laughter the good times and bad.  But if you make it through, it does get better.   When they hit 18 and move out on their own, they begin to like their parents and they decide you are not as stupid as they once thought and by the time they are 21, you've got a friend. 

Hold on to those good memories, the laughing and fun the family had.   Let go of the past, because you can’t change it and dwelling on it only makes today awful.  You can learn from your mistakes but changing them, NO.  What’s done is done.

In today’s world, it’s let’s blame the parents.  I can blame my parents for a lot of things.   Making me a Scaredy Cat for one.  I can’t swim because my mother was scared and never let me go swimming like everyone else.  I fixed that…I did make sure my kids could swim. 

I have to say that every time they left the house whether it was to ride a bicycle, play a game or play with friends, I was always worried that something would happen to them.  I watched other mothers who seemed to not give a damn and let their kids run wild and those kids never got hurt.  Why couldn’t I be happy-go-lucky? 

I always said that our kids would have a college education because I started and never finished and still regret it to this day. Sure, I blame my parents for not pushing me.  My kids did it.  It wasn’t easy for them, but they worked hard and on their own.  They can be proud of themselves forever and give themselves full credit for that endeavor.

My childhood was spent in the 1950’s and 60’s. The “June Cleaver” era.  Also, I was an only child.  I never understood sibling rivalry.  I prayed for a brother or sister all the time.  I would get so upset when my kids would argue or hit each other.  I had a lonely childhood for the most part.  My mother was the “June Cleaver” type.  House was so clean you could eat from the floors, nothing out of place, good cook, good friend to a lot of people, pretty, always did the “right” thing, worked hard teaching school for 40 years and always proper, the Southern lady. 

My cousins added a bright edge to the loneliness.  My household was quiet and I longed for the times I went to my Aunt’s house because it was a fun place.  She had a maid, so not too much house work for her, she loved gardening, drinking coffee, laughing, taking rides in the country and was very happy-go-lucky and laid back.  My husband always said that I was half my mother and half my aunt and that’s what caused my conflict.  My mother would finish the housework before having fun and my aunt would go have fun and worry about the housework later.  I would go have fun and feel guilty about the housework the whole time!  Guess he was right in his analogy.

My family was not a hugging, snugly or outwardly affectionate family, but somehow I always knew I was loved.  I was never told I did a good job, it was expected.  I generally felt like a failure.  I hope that my children felt loved because they were and are loved deeply. 

All said and done, I was NEVER a perfect mother and they turned out great.   They all have a wicked sense of humor.  I guess they had to laugh to survive.  My husband is a wonderful man and adds a calming force to my not-so-calm being.  He was always there for the kids and loves them so.   I was the nervous type…always worried about everything.  The outer self painted a laid-back face. I was far from laid back.  I had panic and anxiety attacks that kept me from participating in a lot of fun activities.  NOT AN EXCUSE, just fact. If you’ve not been afflicted with this disease, then keep your opinions to yourself because you don’t and won’t get it.

Always wished I could be Olivia Walton and be the kind, sympathetic, loving, always there, cooking, saying the right thing, cleaning, non-judgmental, perfect mom.  Nope, that didn’t happen.  But all in all, life has been good to me.   That's kind of a lie, my cousin and dearest friend died when I was 19 and he was 15, my daddy died when I was 28, my mother and grandmother died when I was 35, my husband suffered with alcoholism, he gave up his career, we lost everything, have a child who suffered with drug abuse, lost my mother and father-in-law, was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis, I was hit by a truck while crossing the street just to name a few of the not-so-great life experiences.  There are many things I would change but I would never change having the wonderful kids I have.  I love them with all my heart and soul and wish them a better, healthier, happier life.

I guess I've given myself a bad rap because I have some pretty great kids.  Pretty, handsome, accomplished, bright, witty and all around fabulous. That’s the short version of my failures and successes as being a mother.  At aged 62, I’m still here.  The only advice I have is, “cherish the good times and make some good memories to cover up the bad” !!

Happy Mother's Day to those all Not-So-Perfect Moms and the ones who think they are!!  AND, most of all, call your mama because someday she won't be there !  I miss my mama every single day!!!!

Mama and Me

Mama