Mother's Day

Since this will be my fourth official Mother's Day and my first Single Mother's Day, I thought it appropriate to reflect on what I have learned about being a Mother and maybe exorcisee some demons while I'm at it.

*  The most important thing I've learned that everyone has his/her own definition of what a "good mother" is or does. When Tristan was born I never produced milk. And let, me let me you, faithful few, I did everything including take medication to make it come in. I'd sit alone for hours with an electronic pump to maybe have half an ounce total to show for it; only to sit with my baby for a few minutes before I had to go try to pump again. (Ya had to do it every two hours for the first week or so or until the milk came in.). I had lactation consultants. I had 2 different kinds of pumps.  Every time I tried to nurse,  Tristan would cry and then I would cry. Finally, at the end of a month I stopped trying because I figured out being sad for not being able to nurse was just making Tristan more upset. So, a happy Mommy equaled a happy baby. However, I never actually shared the intense pain and sadness I felt (and still feel) that I was never able to fulfill that so basic need for my own children, instead I would just smile and say, "It didn't work out for us," and leave it at that. Unfortunately people I was "friends" with often made both pointed and subtle remarks about my use of formula-especially since I didn't even try with Caitlin. Honestly, I just couldn't go through trying and failing again.

*  Good Mom's need different things. By the time Tristan was six weeks old, he was in daycare and I was back in my classroom. Why? Well, I was a teacher married to a teacher...umm, I kinda HAD to. But also because I Like My Job. It's true, sue me.  I love being out and about among people and, yes, being known for and as something other than Tristan and Caitlin's Mom. However, I was guilted so much by the idea I was allowing other people to raise my children, I decided to become a stay at home mom. Truth is, I don't think I'm really cut out to be one. I love my children with every fiber of my soul, but by the end of almost every day I'm so tired of hearing the word "mommy" being uttered every two-point-five-seconds it makes me sad. I feel guilty. I love them, hell, I even like them, but being followed by two ceaselessly loquacious shadows from sun up to sun down (even in the bathroom), it really just wares on the soul. I often fantasize about the 2 hour planning periods I had at school where I would lock my door and turn out the lights and totally decompress. Complete still and silence seems too much of a luxury to ever hope for. I am very thankful for the time I am given to go to the gym a few days a week, but that still involves people and sound and moving. I've always been a person who needed brief bites of solitude to recharge my batteries. Now, I have T popping in the bathroom, when I finally get around to getting a shower, "Mom, I gotta go tee tee. Hey, you're in the shower. Are you getting clean? Why are you showering now? I can't wait to shower tonight. I like taking baths. Are we taking a bath tonight? Can I have some milk? Ok, I tee teed so I'm leaving now. Bye Mom." (Just imagine when he goes poop?!) By the time Thing 1 and Thing 2 fall asleep I have just enough energy left to work the bare minimum on my online classes, write some of the randomness rolling around in my head, perhaps chat with a buddy on fb, and crash into bed...only to not be able to sleep.  This is actually being written in the wee hours of morning because sleep, again, is being a bitch and eluding my exhausted mind and body.

* Good mom have kids that are not always angels. This has been the hardest for me to learn because I instantly chastise myself for being a terrible mother whenever my children are not perfect. Yep, my kids are not still and are rarely quiet in church. My kids are hyper active. My kids want to touch, feel, explore, and look at everything in the world because they are curious. I've learned (and almost accepted) that sometimes I expect too much out of a 3 and 1 year old and their curiosity just means they are intelligent. They aren't always good, but they are certainly good at whatever they are doing.

At the end of the day, my kids are happy, healthy, polite, pleasant, totally cute, and ahead of developmentally milestones. They laugh all the time and, most importantly, they love me. I guess I'm doing something right.

After all they are as new to the whole being a kid thing as I am the whole Mom thing, so it looks like we will be learning together.