The Other Mother's Day
Yesterday on Mother's Day, we got a chance to reflect on our mothers, and most importantly, we hold ourselves, as mothers, up to the archetypal standard of motherhood: in other words, perfection.
Today I'd like to wish all of the "other" kinds of mothers a Happy Mother's Day; mothers who are like me. Happy Other Mother's Day.
Happy Mother's Day to those of you who spent more time crying and less time cooing to your newborn baby because you were so wracked with uncertainty, depression or exhaustion to do anything else. Happy Mother's Day to loving that child despite your guilt and pain, and letting that child feel it, despite your fear.
Happy Mother's Day to those of you who gave in more than you set your foot down, because sometimes the arguments with a toddler were just not worth it, and you decided to save your strength for the big battles to come.
Happy Mother's Day to you mothers who had a career, a calling, and you sometimes neglected spending time with your kids because you were pursuing your dreams. You taught them that they are not the center of the world, and you taught them that you were a person with goals and you were willing to work toward them.
Happy Mother's Day to those of you who sometimes let the T.V. or a DVD watch your child while you scrambled around to find your sanity, or napped on the couch next to them, even if it meant hearing "Under the Sea" or "Let It Go" in your mind for weeks to come.
Here's to the "other" mothers who married into an already-made family, who had to earn the love of resentful step-children, take the abuse and mean comments, and generally deal with the children's sour unresolved issues surrounding their parent's divorce. Happy Mother's Day to all step-mothers who open their arms to those who are not theirs, even when they don't open their arms in return.
Happy Mother's Day to all of you who resort to mac and cheese when your child will eat nothing else. You beat yourself up mercilessly for not feeding them organic vegetables, but the battle of wills is sometimes more damaging than the simple boxed dinner.
Here's to you other mothers who, in moments of sheer exhaustion, resort to clichés such as "Because I said so." Some people forget—that is a valid point.
Here's to you other mothers who are emotionally and mentally fatigued by your lives and the demands of parenthood, who feel overwhelmed most of the time and are sure you will be therapy fodder for decades to come when your child is grown.
Happy Mother's Day to all of you who called your own mothers to find out what the hell to do when your son is exposing himself to his friends or your daughter is smearing her excrement on the bathtub walls.
Here's to all of you other mothers who didn't keep up baby books because your husband lost his job, you were working full time, you went through a divorce, or you were just too stressed, too tired or too busy to do it.
Here's a salute to all other mothers who had the wisdom to leave the room, go into your bedroom and sob until you fell asleep.
Here's to all of you other mothers who secretly hated going to the school plays and choir concerts.
Happy Mother's Day to all of you other mothers who have teenagers, and who have the guts to tell them to grow the fuck up instead of coddling them and making their lives too easy.
Happy Mother's Day to you mothers who have adult daughters. You sit and listen to the litany of wrongs and mistakes you made while your daughter nurses her first child, sure she won't ever make the same mistakes you did.
Here's to all of you other mothers who feel insecure, unsure and outright terrified that you're doing it all wrong.
Yes, here's a salute to all of the imperfect, flawed and very human mothers out there. We are all in this together. Let the perfect mothers have their day and their corsages. We'll take a gin and tonic and a nap instead.
We did one thing right: we love our kids. Sometimes, that's enough.
