The Thing My Mother Taught Me

My mom, being an exceptional mother, taught me many, many things that have helped me parent my children(Thanks, Mom!). There is, however, one lesson that I doubt she realizes she taught.

I remember tons of things about growing up. Being the kind of kid who never did my homework and skated by in school, I remember LOTS of things that remind me that kids are kids and that even kids who aren't straight A students and those who are maybe even straight C (or C/D...or...yeah, okay, I got a couple of Es. Shhhhh!) and those who are quirky and maybe even a little strange can actually turn into successful, well adjusted and happy adults (yes, I am, Michelle. So, you hush!).

But, that is not what my mother taught me.

Nope.

Most often, she would be sitting with friends watching us play tag or hide and seek when the lesson was taught. I always hated those games, so I'd find a place to sit and daydream, and I'd hear the mothers complaining about  this kid or that one. School troubles, attitude troubles, troubles and more troubles. The way those moms told it, being a mother was the most horrible, exasperating job that they'd ever done.

Of course, if they weren't complaining, they were bragging. About straight As or honor roll or a special part in a school play.

My mom was often quiet during the complaint fest or the brag fest. Once in a while, though, she would say this thing that would stick in my heart. Just stick there. It is still there today. She would say, "I'm really fortunate. I have great kids."

Now, perhaps you see that and think, that's not bragging?

But, as the kid who'd just brought home a horrible report card or who'd gotten sent to my room for giving my mother an attitude or who'd forgotten to do her homework and had the teacher call home....well, to me, what that sounded like was love.

Unconditional without exception love.

Because, I heard the truth in my mother's voice. I heard that she truly, truly meant what she was saying. That despite the little annoying habits and attitudes and the troubles her kids caused, she actually thought we were great. Not just when we were clean and neat and tidy or pulling straight As on our report cards, but always.

And, that is the lesson I most value.

It is what I strive to teach my children. Not in sit down meetings or words, but in the things that I do and the way I act. No matter our struggles, I want my kids to know that I think they're great and that being their mother is the greatest and most wonderful job I will ever have.

It is our culture that says that being a mother is not enough aspiration. It is our society that tells us that we should apologize for being at home.

Me?

I rejoice in it.

It is only a season, after all. Though, I will always be their mother, I will only mother them for this time. What I show them and give them and impart to them, that shapes their futures and, thus, shapes our society's future. We are not, after all, autonomous. We are part of this greater whole. The cultural revolution had its purpose and did some wonderful things, but I see its one great failure in this, that it made motherhood a burden and a shackle. That, in turn, made children burdens and shackles. It is the lie of our modern era that women should be doing it all and doing it all well- working full time, raising perfect children, keeping a perfect house. Is it any wonder so many of us are stressed and unhappy?

But, perhaps that is a much larger topic than what I meant it to be!

BTW, we finished our cookie baking.

So much fun and mess!

Last batch of cookies? Cut outs, of course!

At first, they were clean and neat and precise:

 And, then the sugar high kicked in:

And, creativity kicked in:

 And the mess happened:

 And the angst of broken cut outs:

 But the smiles made it all worthwhile!

 And, the kids made it all worthwhile:

 Of course, The Professor remained my neat and tidy kid:

And, The Musician tried to lead him to the dark side:

 And, Cheeky just beamed with joy because we were doing this together, and that is the best thing of all!

 Mission accomplished! Cookies packed and ready to be delivered to the neighbors.

 The Musician carries the kazoo. Sassy and The Architect are entrusted with the cookies. And The Professor is the one I entrust Cheeky to. I know I can count on him to hold her hand the entire trip to the next door neighbors and back.

 Please notice the pink near The Professor's coat. Yep. He's already clutching her hand.

If only I could trust him to remember to close the door!

May you all enjoy the richness of family this Christmas!