10 on the 10th: Mother's Day Version

I realize, today being Mother's Day and all, several of us might be posting about out moms or about motherhood in general...Cool. In this case, I don't mind being unoriginal at all, for we all do have motherhood in common, whether we have kids or not: we were kids. I was raised by my mom, with only small chunks of childhood spent with my dad, since they were divorced in 1975. Waaaaay back then (for you young uns who had yet to be born), it was typical for the mother to have custody of the children after a divorce. You could say I was also partially raised by my maternal grandmother, who came to live with us when I was 12. So today is a day in which I'll give 10 randomish things--both related to these ladies, and related to my own experiences as a mom.

Around...1989

10. I celebrate my use of idiomatic speech to my grandmother ("Grum"). I thought everybody used terms like, "half a bubble off" and "crooked as a dog's hind leg".




9. I learned sacrifice and making the best of a situation from my mom in some of our poorest times. We'd have "treat" supper. In other words, a Reeses peanut butter cup was a delicious and delightful dinner when she only had 38 cents in her pocket. Who was I to complain?





8. Never tell your mom a secret that you don't want your grum to know. And vice versa. I don't know why I never caught on to this. I really thought they were both such great confidantes. And in a way...they were. I think I told my grum I'd had sex (oh, be quiet) before I told my mom...perhaps knowing that she'd soften things for me.






7. BTW, losing the rest of my readership...my grum bought me a Playgirl mag when I was about 14. I literally had no idea what guys looked like, having been raised by wolves , and I was curious. I'll never forget her going into the Country Store to pick that up--probably along with a pack of cigarettes. Sort of like this post...couldn't j.u.s.t. buy the mag. And guess what...it was so gross that I've never had the wish to buy another. :)






6. My mom had a lot of problems. Goodness, mercy a. l.o.t. of problems. And I often think that God released her from her work here so He could care for her, since obviously, she was having a hard time caring for herself so. There were plenty o' days when I'd wonder (since she was self destructive) when she'd die, and how I'd feel. Would I be miserable? Would I be relieved? I thought, in all my 20-something wisdom, that I'd feel sad, but relieved. I was right. However, I don't think I counted on the depth of either of those emotions. Actually, I know I didn't. But to this day, I see the Hand of grace all over her death. Her life and death impacts me today, and I like to think...speaks into who I am.


5. I never knew that good dads were necessary in the raising of children until I saw one in action. This is not a slam against my dad; I'm over that, and we're fine with each other. Rather, it's a prop to my husband. He makes me a better mother by modeling patience, unemotionality (e.g. "not taking the bait), and perseverance with them. When I throw up my hands, he brings me back down to a "we can't give up on them" reality. A reality I know, but find so hard to achieve on my own all the time.


4. I am so grateful I could have children. Whether delivering them myself, or mothering through adoption, I knew I wanted to be a mom. And as my childbearing years draw to a close, adopting more, though probably unlikely, is a comforting thought.




3. I never knew how hard on myself I could be until I had children. Especially, I think, because I stay home with them. In other words, this is my only job, so I hope they turn out well. But I'm coming to grips with the fact that I can only do what I can do, and the rest is up to them. And God's grace and mercy, as well. If there's anything I miss from having a job, it's that rubric of satisfying an expected behavior or goal.



2. One of my favorite memories of my mom is her, in her bedroom, smoke thick, listening to Willie, Waylon, and the Boys or Joan Baez, and belting it out in the most off-key, joyous voice possible. She never understood that when wearing headphones, one shouldn't sing. Or maybe she did notice and didn't care.





1. I now know what "they" mean when they say, "Oh, enjoy it now! It goes so fast!" Usually when I heard that, my hair was falling out of it's hastily made ponytail, and my eyes were bleary from lack of sleep. But wow. It's gone so fast. And good, bad, and ugly--I wouldn't take a moment back. It's my story.