sometimes parenting can make you feel just a little crazy


When I first told my mom I was going to try writing a book, she used her best Sarah Bernhardt voice to utter dramatically, “Please be kind to me.”  I swear I could hear her free hand being placed over her heart and eyelids fluttering.  And she teases ME for being dramatic.  I said she wasn't even in it.  It was true because she wasn’t in the one I was writing at the time.  Still, my mother is always in my writing because she’s always a part of me.  As cliché as that sounds, it’s true.  She's inescapable, as mothers tend to be.  The thing is, as I’ve grown older and settled farther away, the closer to her I want to be.  Surprisingly, I need her more as I've grown older, not less.  It’s one of those things many of us don’t realize soon enough.  We spend much of our childhood avoiding our parents as much as possible and then our young adult and twenty-something lives are spent wrapped up in our own worlds.  Now, in my thirties, instead of continuing to step back from her, going beyond accepting I've grown to be like her, I find myself embracing and reaching for everything connected to her.  WWMD ("What Would Mother Do?")  Where should I place this frame?  How does this top look on me?  Do these pillows look good here?  How about this recipe?  I even miss shopping with her, because as often as we disagree on something, we know it is ABsolutely FABulous whenever we do agree.  I have gotten to a place in life where I want to spend more time with my mom and I have the least amount of spare time to do so.  Oh, the circle of life.  Without getting too sappy, I think it’s important we spend as much time with our parents now before it’s too late and they go senile.  At that point, we'll just be annoyed at having to change diapers again.

I know many mothers and luckily they are all good ones.  My aunts, my grandmothers, my sister-in-law, my friends who have babies of their own, my mother-in-law and my own dear mother.  Oh dearest mother of mine.  She’s so good at giving me the guilt trip I’d swear she was Jewish if we didn’t grow up Catholic.  Just because I moved two hours away when I got engaged you’d think I had completely abandoned her.

To be fair, she is stuck with my dad.

Happy Mother's Day!