Ok, so I am a mom and I like to think in these terms. But this post is more than just a matriacentric (yeh I think I made that word up) view of the world as I see it in terms of my own mothering.
First, you should know that the beautifully manicured hand pointing to that shirt would be that of my mom. The full mom is in the original picture but I was afraid she might be a little shy about being featured here. Those who know her would recognize that hand anywhere.
So there hangs this cute little shirt in an equally cute little shop in Delray Beach. I am sure many a mommy (or maternal grandmommy) wanders into that shop to purchase this item and clothe some sweet little baby in it before they are old enough to have a say in what clothing they will wear (in the case of my daughter that would be by the time she was two!) My mom noticed it and we took a picture to send to my daughter. I am sure her response was something like ‘Aw, Gram!”
So what makes this Time to Cry Tuesday worthy. Well, just the way my daughter says “Aw, Gram!” is a start. Or the fact that we moms so often take the heat for what is wrong with our kids, I felt it was time to praise the idea of what we do right. Face it, we are accused of being overprotective (ahem, cough cough, Gary and Danny accusing me of that just yesterday), helicoptering, nagging, being the heavy, the number one culprit for all that is wrong in the lives of our adult children– as in all therapists blaming the mothers (exactly why don’t the fathers get the blame in therapy?)
This post is dedicated to and in recognition of all the fabulous moms in my life. Mine, my husband’s, both of whom I have been so very fortunate to have been able to share my adult life with – there is never a day I take that for granted. And all of my mommy friends who have been in the mothering trenches with me for the past (almost) 21 years. There is much truth in that silly little shirt. If you were raised by a woman who always put you first (as I was) or you know what it feels like to mother a child and how you would throw yourself in front of a bus for them – for real, you understand that it really is (kinda) all about your mother.
It is hard to explain the joys of motherhood. The best thing I can say is that without it my life would never have been so full. Colors would have been a little less bright. Things simply would not have tasted the same. Laughter would not have been as hearty and tears would not have been so sorrowful.
In short: Life, it’s all about your mother. (oh and of course your dad too)