I'm finally beginning to understand my mom. I mean really understand her. Well she's matured alot since I was a teenager, so it's easier for us to communicate now.
Often I tease her that she could find something to worry about, if nothing too troubling was already going on. That's a tall order for our family, nothing to worry about that is, there's 21 of us.
My mom was blessed (or cursed I suppose, ha ha) with 6 children. The girls were all born 1st; 5 of them. You read right... 5 baby girls in a row!!! Now, if you were paying attention when I said she had 6 children, then you got it... the baby was a boy. We (my siblings & I) claim that's why there's 6 of us, not 7. But, she swears it had nothing to do with finally "getting that boy".
Well, the first 5 of us were born in less than 7 years! That's alot of teenage girls to be raising in the '70s and '80s. Now put your calculator away.... I am 29 years old and so are all my sisters..... in fact my mom is 29 too.
Oh, now there are grandchildren too, which to her delight allows more opportunity for worry... you know what I mean.
RELAX! I'm just kidding...
Truth be told, I'm turning out to be alot more like her than I thought I would....but that's a blog of a different color... or for a different time.
OK, so where was I? Oh yes, I'm finally beginning to understand my mom.
You see, it's easier when they are babies. We don't believe it, but it is. I used to look at older women like they were nuts when they would see me with my little ones and say things like "enjoy them, these are the easy times, wait till they're older... then you'll really have your hands full." I figured they were glorifying the cute stuff and forgetting the vomit, sleepless nights, cutting teeth.... etc. Back then I thought life would be great, after diapers, formula, etc. So silly of me.
Nanas, as she's lovingly called by children, grandchildren and now loads of family friends, is still a mom. My older kids are now in their 20s, and of course I'm still a mom, and surprise... a worrier. Nothing over-the-top, and it turns out my mom's worry isn't over-the-top either, just the usual. It's sometimes the same as when they were little, yet somehow very different. I know that doesn't make any sense, and I kind of think that's the point.
When they are little we make sure their food isn't too hot, their shoes aren't too big (don't want them to trip), dress them warmly, see that they get their homework done, study for tests, make good choices, respect others, respect themselves, get proper rest, and so on. We take care of them when they are sick, hurt, sad, lonely......we worry whether or not they are happy.
It's no different when they are older, except now their problems can't be fixed with a popsicle.
Well, in spite of the good, the bad and the ugly, I'm so glad I'm a mom. There has never been a job that has given me 1% of the job satisfaction I have from being a mom. I'm sure my kids don't always feel that way, like when my halo is in the bottom of a closet (rusted and dinged), or when my "Mom of the Year" subscription doesn't reach the mailbox cause I've been deleted from their list.
The good news is, when needed, the red cape still comes out, & SUPER MOM gets to work.
Thankfully I've been trained by the best, Super Nanas.
And let's face it, I'm nothing without my sidekick, SUPER DAD.
Chris, Brian, Bill & Joe, thanks for making me Mom.