Happy Mother’s Day to all mom’s and grandmom’s out there….oh and mom’s to be too. All aunties and and sisters and all the ladies….
I want to say, by all accounts, my daughter is kind and thoughtful. She really does love to help people and has a huge heart. I know she has a heart of gold. I want to point out all these great things because even though she drives me absolutely NUTS somedays, she is my light and life. After not being able to have her in my life for 2 and half years, not being able to see her everyday and hold her, I am glad she is finally home. I love her hugs, her smiles, her dance, her song, her laughs. She is growing up…..uffda. Pre-teen is so very hard on this mama…..again..uffda.
Since being diagnosed with ADD and RAD, we have made some radical changes in our life. Hers and mine. The medicine she is taking has made a HUGE difference. She is able to concentrate better. Her school work is so much more easy for her. She can focus and wow…..
Now to deal with the attachment stuff. This is a huge adjustment for me. I am learning how to parent in a different way. It is so hard as I wasn’t raised in the way that parenting a child with reactive attachment needs to be parented. I think the way my parents parented me and my siblings was TOUGH LOVE AND THE HAND! And I am still pretty ok…. I think?
That’s just parenting. That’s the gig. It’s some kind of insane, child-rearing blood sport. Lord help us.
Back to Mother’s Day. I think that it can be kind of stupid and obligatory, only because we’ve framed it wrong. Mother’s day isn’t about claiming that mothers are better than other people or somehow more valuable. We’re not. There are zero requirements to becoming a mother and stupid people become mothers all the time.
I don’t think you somehow become more of a person when you become a mother. Your value is there from day one. You’re valuable just because, and there’s no amount of marrying or procreation or anything else makes you more legitimate as a person. So we can stop mother worship as a holiday.
But I kinda NEED Mother’s Day, OK?
I don’t need pink cards, or flowers, or certainly one of those swoopy necklaces or whatever. It’s not about that to me. You know what it’s about? Survival. I need a day when people that are important to me say, “Hey, I see you over there, and I know you’re just barely making it. Good job and I’m sorry and here’s a glass of wine or a margarita.”
It should be called “Motherhood Survival Day,” where all mothers are acknowledged not for doing it all right, or being magically worth treasuring, but just for making it through another year. Just for making it through an unending torrent of questions and comments about your daily activities, objections to whatever plans you’ve laid, several-times-daily accidental injuries to your person or property, unbridled emotions and—yes—the occasional southpaw smack to the face.
I come into and out of too many days feeling battered and bruised, not knowing if I can stitch together enough scraps of my remaining sanity to hold myself together. And I’m guessing a lot of mothers feel that way, too.