Twenty-some years in the making

This is my version of a glitter-covered construction paper card – the kind my mom saved year after year even when there were three children gifting them to her. My card-making skills have deteriorated over the years, and somehow they just aren’t as cute when inspired by half a bottle of wine. Instead, I will say it in print: Happy Mother’s Day.

While I try not to take either Mother’s Day or Father’s Day for granted, I find the challenge in expressing my gratitude year after year without sounding redundant or overly sentimental. Of course, I am thankful for the support – financial and emotional – provided from my parents for the last 27 years. I am grateful for my mother’s love and friendship; but I would also like to extend my appreciation for the less glamorous aspects of motherhood.

I’m not referring to the wiping of butts and cleaning of vomit (but thanks for that, too) I’m thinking more of those actions that may not feel like maternal gold, the actions that bring on temper tantrums in the mall and made her feel like the No. 1 Bad Guy instead of the World’s Best Mom.

Mom, thank you for saying “No.”

 When my siblings and I were younger, saying “no” brought on cries of protest, high pitched pleas in embarrassingly public places, tears and worse. Saying “no” brought scorn and anger from us, emotions that are difficult to accept as a parent. Being the disciplinarian is a thankless job, but without those limits, without the simple word “no,” we would have been monsters. Learning that you can’t have everything you want is a difficult lesson, which is why, as a child, the best argument seems to be “it’s not fair!” However, many, many people in life will tell you “no” – it’s nice to first learn about disappointment and injustice from someone who still loves you afterwards.

Mom, thank you for the candy.

Yes, candy, sugar, sweets and chips are bad for kids. My mom did not buy candy unless it was a holiday, and the only time we had soda in the house was after a BBQ. However, she allowed us to indulge. I recall with chills down my spine the consumption of Pixie Stix during my parent’s softball games on summer evenings in Durango (as well as the “hyper” feeling that ensued). Healthy? God, no! There was not a single natural ingredient in that candy. It was not remotely good for us, but in allowing us these small vices I feel that as an adult, I am not compulsive about consuming the forbidden fruit (or sugar, as it were). I learned to make choices about my food. However, even though it will last me months, I still feel that a chocolate stash is normal.

Mom, thank you for leaving me alone.

As the oldest of three kids, some of my fondest memories of growing up are of being alone. Finding solitude apart from the supervision of parents or the questions and annoyances of younger siblings felt like a treat. I’m sure that for my mother, dealing with two instead of three was a matter of ease, but I’m grateful for being allowed that time by myself. I learned to entertain myself and be happy alone.

I also learned to solve my own problems. “Dealing with it” is an important skill that is underdeveloped by many children and adults. Whether I had issues with friends or teachers, I didn’t expect my mommy to fix it. To this day, I have a bad habit of accepting unpleasant situations, but I much prefer this to blame throwing. 

Mom, thank you for being selfish.

My mom is not a selfish person in the slightest, but I can now appreciate her efforts to take time for herself while we were growing up. Mountain biking or getting coffee with her friends, dressing up for a night out with Dad, reading her own book, watching her own TV shows – the simple pleasures of doing what you want to do for enjoyment are taken for granted by us non-mothers. I appreciate my mother’s autonomy both with my Dad and us kids. It may seem simple, but maintaining a sense of self in any relationship, never mind one as all-consuming as motherhood, is a challenge.  It allows for happiness, and her happiness is what I remember about my mother when we were growing up.

Mom, thank you for being honest.

My mother cannot lie, but she will also tell the truth. I can rely on her to give me a medicinal dose of honesty, and she, in turn, is grateful to hear my uncensored thoughts. She has never said that motherhood is “magical” or intimated that relationships don’t require work. She is honest about her doubts and her choices and her happiness is more genuine because of it. I admire her honesty and the strength it gives her, and I feel fortified by her because I have realistic expectations about life, love and motherhood.

Perhaps because of so many friends who have recently joined Club Maternity, or perhaps because I have recently realized that in a few short years, I might have to use the lessons taught to me by my mother, I feel especially grateful for our bond. It took twenty-some-odd years, but I’d like to extend my thanks for the thankless job. Happy Mother’s Day.

– Maggie Casey