Mother, tell your children not to walk my way

May 11th is Mother's Day. I will be in Russia but I did order my mom a fruit bouquet that I hope she enjoys. I guess this Mother's Day seems poignant to me because I won't be here to celebrate it with her and, I suppose, it is my first Mother's Day??

When does one become a mother?? According to Jennifer Garner in Juno: "A woman becomes a mother the moment she finds out she's pregnant. A man becomes a father when he first sees the baby."

Now, while that might not be the most authoritative source, I would have to agree with this statement. Everything changes a little bit when you find out your pregnant. You start thinking more about what you are eating, drinking, how you feel, your stress levels, etc. because, if you are me, you don't want to start the baby on the wrong foot. Now, if the baby has something wrong with it, besides not knowing what I will do, I will try my damnedest not to blame myself. I have done all that I could think to do to help and protect my baby. I'm following the advice of the midwives, I passed my food diary with flying colors, everything seems to be on track. But I'm not counting my chick until it's hatched...it just doesn't feel right to do that. Because the alternative, having your baby and finding out there is something wrong with it, is too devastating if I just go "everything's great, tra la la." I'm not thinking about bad things all the time, it's just kind of a little thought in the back of my head.

But this post is supposed to be about mothers. So I will share a secret about my feelings about my own mother.

I remember, must have been elementary school, when I first recognized my mother. I mean, saw her as my mother. I remember seeing other people's mothers and understanding the relationship between the children and their mothers. And then one day, I made the connection that this woman was my mother. She was, to me, what those women were to their children. And I felt really disappointed and kind of ashamed. Because I thought that all those other mothers were so pretty and my mother wasn't. She had gray hair, she didn't wear make-up, she didn't wear jewelry, her clothes were not stylish (granted, I mostly saw her in her bedclothes or t-shirts/shorts because she was a stay at home mom). I just felt embarrassed that my mom wasn't like the other moms.

It wasn't a good day. I was embarrassed but I was also ashamed of myself. I never told her any of this and I'm so glad that I didn't. Because, as most people do, I grew up and matured. And as I got older, I saw her in so many different lights. I saw her beauty. Her kindness, her ability to be happy, even her strictness! All of her characteristics were so incredibly beautiful. And she radiates with this beauty. And, as much as I compared her physical attributes when I was younger, I compared her inner attributes to other mothers that I encountered as I got older. She never yelled at me in that ugly way that contorts people's faces with irrational anger. She never said "no" to me without first hearing and understanding what I had to say. She was always there for me and I saw so many kids wishing for that. She never babied me, she allowed me to make my own decisions, and she listened. By God, she listened!! Which was quite a feat since I would come home, daily, and gripe about people and things that happened at school. But she listened to it all. She cooked our meals, she washed our clothes and dishes, she taught us chores, and she showed us beauty.

So for this Mother's Day, I post this blog because I can't be there with my mom. Momma, this one's for you. I hope to raise my children like you raised me because I honestly can't think of a way to improve on anything that you have done. Well, maybe I won't cry at commercials as much. :)

Here's to you, Momma!



***she would murder me if she knew I posted her picture here....***