So it's Mother's day - a day to celebrate the person in your life who brought you into this world. My mom worked her toushie off even though she never had a full time job. She kept the house, lawns and gardens tidy. She chased the sheep, chickens and that darn pig when they got out. And she kept us in line - which was never an easy thing to do. I never acknowledged how hard she worked or that my mother was right about anything until I was about 23 when I called her - crying - and told her she was right about everything. Then I proceeded to apologize for all the bad things I ever did during my childhood. I felt as though I had earned my right of passage in that one phone call and that I was ready for children of my own.
Yeah - right.
I turned 31 the year the Monkey was born. I had a very uneventful pregnancy, labor and childbirth - aside from threatening to throttle a nurse in the maternity ward when she gave me a Nubain instead of an Epidural. In a matter of 10 1/2 hours from my first contraction, out came this screaming wiggling thing that I was charged with keeping alive. Good Lord - what have I done. He was hungry all the time and refused to sleep more than a few hours at a time and I believed in my mind that he seriously thought he needed to be the life of the party even at that age. I remember getting peed on only a handful of times and sleeping in the Canadian Rocker more than my own bed for months on end. He was eating cereal at 8 weeks and walking by 8 months. His first words were DADADADADADADA and Oooohhhhhhh! He hasn't stopped eating, moving or talking since.
His father and I split when he was just three years old and for his fourth birthday I bought him a new house. As a single mom I went through stages of fear, depression, elation and amazing strength. I swore that if I could keep him alive and happy it would be a miracle. I learned how to sleep in a house as the sole adult and became a fierce protector of my home and family. I kept the bill collectors and mortgage company at bay and found ways to work the system to keep ahead of the game. I got him into sports and kept him fed. That was six years ago.
I work full time - 40 hours a week - in a professional role for a very large company. I'm 'team mom' for baseball teams each spring, he plays basketball each fall and we're now into year round soccer. We go hiking, biking and fishing and I even make Monkey's friends jealous because their dads won't do things I do. I'm chipping away at my 'wanted' list. I own my big camera. I have a riding lawnmower. I got me a truck. I have a boat on the way. We are happy and healthy. There is very little left a woman could want in life. Except a day to herself. Which is Mother's Day.
Unless you're a single mom, because then it's just another day. I don't think I'd want it any other way.
Yeah - right.
Mom, my older sister and I, Christmas - circa 1970?
I turned 31 the year the Monkey was born. I had a very uneventful pregnancy, labor and childbirth - aside from threatening to throttle a nurse in the maternity ward when she gave me a Nubain instead of an Epidural. In a matter of 10 1/2 hours from my first contraction, out came this screaming wiggling thing that I was charged with keeping alive. Good Lord - what have I done. He was hungry all the time and refused to sleep more than a few hours at a time and I believed in my mind that he seriously thought he needed to be the life of the party even at that age. I remember getting peed on only a handful of times and sleeping in the Canadian Rocker more than my own bed for months on end. He was eating cereal at 8 weeks and walking by 8 months. His first words were DADADADADADADA and Oooohhhhhhh! He hasn't stopped eating, moving or talking since.
A precious lil' Monkey about 4 weeks old
About 18 months?
Two years old
His father and I split when he was just three years old and for his fourth birthday I bought him a new house. As a single mom I went through stages of fear, depression, elation and amazing strength. I swore that if I could keep him alive and happy it would be a miracle. I learned how to sleep in a house as the sole adult and became a fierce protector of my home and family. I kept the bill collectors and mortgage company at bay and found ways to work the system to keep ahead of the game. I got him into sports and kept him fed. That was six years ago.
Around 5, taking up my entire livingroom
Six-ish in the snow, boogery nose and all
Probably 7-8 years old, climbing the darn trees again
My big boy pitches and catches now....
...and is a key member of his soccer team
I work full time - 40 hours a week - in a professional role for a very large company. I'm 'team mom' for baseball teams each spring, he plays basketball each fall and we're now into year round soccer. We go hiking, biking and fishing and I even make Monkey's friends jealous because their dads won't do things I do. I'm chipping away at my 'wanted' list. I own my big camera. I have a riding lawnmower. I got me a truck. I have a boat on the way. We are happy and healthy. There is very little left a woman could want in life. Except a day to herself. Which is Mother's Day.
Unless you're a single mom, because then it's just another day. I don't think I'd want it any other way.
♥ you
ReplyDelete