I have a confession. It’s a confession I’ve noticed I share with many of my friends.
I don’t love Mother’s Day.
Now I don’t in any way mean I don’t love my children. They are my greatest blessing. On Mother’s Day, I felt like a fraud. Honestly in my eyes, as a mother I was failing.
When Jack was a little baby, I was excited to be a Mom. He was so cute and his smiles could immediately change my day from bad to good. He was completely dependent on others for his every need and I wanted to be that person for him. My every concern was for him and helping him to feel loved and nurtured. It was easy to spend my whole day wrapped up in taking care of this sweet boy. I was sleep deprived, buried in laundry, and my house was cluttered with books and toys, and I didn’t even care. Ok, I cared, but when I reflected on the reasons, it was easy to overlook it all. Then the excitement doubled as baby number two would soon join our family.
The excitement was short lived. Everything I thought would happen in my life was up in flames.
In 3 short hours everything I had know for the last 28 years was drastically different. For the next 5 months I lived in the hospital. Jack was unsure of me and for weeks wanted nothing to do with me. As time went on he wasn’t scared of me but my role as his care giving mother had changed. He went to loving family members for his needs.
I was hopeful for a full recovery when I was released from the hospital. I was hopeful for a “normal” life. I wanted nothing more that to care for and raise my two boys. None of those things came true in the ways I had envisioned in my mind.
Once home, it was even more heartbreak. I sat on the floor most days just so I could be on the boys level and have as much interaction as possible. We had good times playing, reading, and I was their personal jungle gym. We had love and laughter and for the most part I was happy, but deep inside I ached for what it should have been like. However the times I really wanted to be a part of, they turned to someone else. Someone able bodied. When they were tired, they wanted to be held tightly. When they were hurt, they needed someone to pick them up and nurture them. When they were hungry, they needed to be fed. Those everyday things they needed were provided somewhere else and that was hard. I sat and watched other people fill my role.
These days were hard. What was the point? Why did Heavenly Father bless me with these babies when I couldn’t take care of them. I couldn’t even take care of myself!
I had a picture in my mind of what a mother was. For me a Mom was one who cooked dinner to be eaten as a family and who surprised their kids with warm cookies when they arrived home at school. One who served her family by taking care of them. A Mom was someone who could snuggle on the couch as her babies fell asleep next to her. A Mom was someone who takes you on walks, who jumps on the trampoline with you, someone who gives you experiences and memories. I wanted to make Halloween costumes, and blankets, and help at their schools. A Mom is someone you turn to when your hurt or sick because for whatever reason, Mom makes it all better. I was not that Mom and it was a sad and hard realization that I might never be that Mom.
As they were older some things got easier, others harder. When I needed to show them how to do something, my words were all I had. I explained and explained but sometimes you need to be shown and guided with a visual. When situations needed a strong and quick intervention, I was usually useless and in my frustration with myself and the situation, I usually only added to the chaos as tried to intervene or resolve the situation.
Every single day was filled with frustration, heartbreak, disappointment. Every day I was reminded over and over again of what I couldn’t do. I was reminded that as a Mother, I was falling so very short. The boys didn’t listen, our home felt tense and full of contention, and there was always a struggle of who was in charge. It was like my short comings were put out from broadcast on a flashing neon sign. To me they were so obvious and then I would have friends tell me “you’re such a good Mom” and I wanted to shrivel up. I would think to myself “all morning I yelled at or threaded my kids and all day long I’m handing out consequence, that is not a good mom.”
I felt so much pressure. There are talks regularly in general conference of the divine role of mothers. M. Russell Ballard said, “There is no role more essential and more eternal than that of motherhood.” Oh great! Was that suppose to be encouraging? All it did for me was make my neon sign flash quicker and brighter.
Then one day my friend shared an article on Facebook titled, “When Your Kids Won’t Bow to Your Idols.” It talked about a boy who danced to the beat of his own drum. As he ignored his Mother’s council, his Mother was filled with anger and frustration. Her idols, control, pride, reputation, were all being challenged. She said, “I had created a system of order I loved, and he pummeled through it every single day. So I controlled even more, commanding him to bow to my idol of a compliant, respectful child. He wouldn’t bow. And I was angry.” As I read it, I was immediately humbled. I had been praying for so long to have a change in my family. I realized then, the change needed was me. The picture I had in my head of the Mother I was suppose to be needed an update. A start from scratch update.
So I did some serious personal evaluation. First and foremost I pray to my Heavenly Father for forgiveness. Next I prayed to see my children through his eyes. Now don’t take this the wrong way. I never once thought my children were terrible kids, but I definitely focused on what I saw as their “shortcomings” and often overlooked the many wonderful qualities they have. That’s a hard thing to admit. Our days were speckled with laughter and joy but that seemed to go quickly while the moments of frustration lingered on for so much longer.
So I made some goals. I knew the things I wanted for my boys, for our home, and for myself. I wasn’t naïve, I knew it wouldn’t happen over night and I knew there would still be bad days. I knew that nothing would change until I did. First and foremost I decided to slow my response to situations. I decided most things were not worth being upset or frustrated over. Most situations would resolve easier with laughter and love. I also gave up my sense of control. As often as I can I tried to let them be who they are. I let them test their limits, try new things, and experiment. I let them work to figure things out on their own, even if it is not the way I think it should be done. And when things don’t go as planned and there is hurt or heartache we can discuss that together.
Most nights I still go to bed asking for forgiveness for my own shortcomings as their Mother. However there have been changes in our home. In our family. In me.
I’ve been blessed to see and focus on the wonderful qualities my children possess. They are loving, kind, and compassionate. They are independent and will to try and learn new things. They are adventurous. The love to have fun, be silly, and laugh. They are forgiving and patient. They are gross … I mean they are dirty and stinky and everything a boy should be. They are creative and like to be helpful. Then have so much to teach me, if I let them.
So in the midst of these changes, I’m also changing my tune. I like Mother's Day. I have so much to celebrate and be thankful for. I love my life. I love my family. I'm so grateful for all that we get to share together and all we can share in the future. The reason Heavenly Father blessed me with my trials and blessed me with my sweet boys is because I have so much to learn from both and with a new mindset, I’m ready to learn.
Jack & Talon …. Thanks for letting me be your Mom. I love you.
