For some of us, moms are the best thing since bottomless brunch; for others just the mentioning of the M word is enough to drive us from brunch straight to the bar. Shit gets mighty real when faced with the complex je ne sais quoi of primary care-giving. Whether we like to admit it or not, our relationship with the woman that raised us, is crucial in shaping our sense of security and self-esteem. (Time for our first sip.)
Turns out that after many long-houred convos with friends and the mildly redeeming but mostly gruesome cases of workplace ear-rape, I find that people of all ages have one or more parent on whom they blame literally most everything wrong in their life. Our precious "trouble parent", if you please. The one that just never got us. (That throat closing up yet? OK, I'll stop.) I'm sure we can all agree that they tried their best. Or wished they had.
But nooo ma'am! They'll be no pity-parties on this fine day. Au contraire, I thought why not take this national hallmark, and make the case for why momma figures, of all caste; evil or angelic, maternal or not, do in fact deserve a pretty bouquet of tulips and that foot rub (for which they'd never dare ask.)
(Time out - You all seeing the explosion of hyphenated words going on? Any theories? I tend to over-analyze.)
Moving on, I have a little aphorism on mothahood, that I would very much like to share:
"We're all somebody's mother; and if were not, we oughta be.
Boys, you're included.
Haven't you ever come across a person who desperately needed a "mom" and for whom you sorta acted as such? Like, you know, reminding them that cheetos for breakfast- not the best idea, or that sleep and water - truly awesome friends. The person you worried about a little pinch more than all the rest. They might have very well been the biggest scoundrels too -- they typically are- but something in their recklessness triggered something inside you; to give yourself (somewhat) unconditionally and not expect much in return. Not even a thank you. Your martyrdom, somehow exalted. Your best interest, somehow overshadowed.
Your role-- somewhat of their "mom".
I think moms can and do teach us two very important things: how to treat ourselves when life is good and how to treat ourselves when life is bad. How to sweet talk our weaknesses into not becoming monsters and how to do more for others than what would typically be expected.
If I made any stupid assumptions in exploring all this, please forgive me. It is, after all, what a good mom would do.
Let's raise a glass then, to all mommies, "mommies", and my Goodie.