Honoring ALL the moms on Mother's Day...
On Mother’s Day — like so many holidays commercialized with picture-perfect expectations — I always feel some inevitable tension. On the one hand, I am deeply grateful for the mostly joyful years of parenthood since giving birth to my son nearly 21 years ago, appreciating the flowers this morning and a kitchen cleaned by said offspring (who wasn’t even asked, but perhaps got the not-too-subtle hint). On the other hand, I also know that mothering can be fraught with conflicting emotions and pressures and sometimes accompanied by the deepest grief I think humans can know. Having an annual day set aside for “celebrating moms” tends to simplify and sugar-glaze a role that touches the deepest nerves and most tender vulnerabilities. So, on this Mother’s Day, I want to give a little shout-out to some of the moms I have known, less Hallmark-y but perhaps more authentic…
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms who have pieced together minimum wage jobs, secret trips to the food bank while kids were at school, and irregular child care to make it all work… because there was no one else would would or could. And happy Mother’s Day to the moms who missed their kids’ first steps or first words while they worked in beautiful downtown offices with expensive art, because they had crushing student debt from law school so couldn’t afford to opt out of the partner-track high-paying jobs, as glamorous as they might have looked. Or maybe because they hoped to make a difference. Or wanted to be financially independent. Or understood that modern life brings hard choices and we actually can’t have it all.
Happy Mother’s Day to the almost-always underpaid and underappreciated babysitters, nannies, child care providers, and teachers who lovingly mothered our kids when we couldn’t — like my son’s 8th grade teachers at his brand new school (the year of my cancer treatment, when I didn’t function well in any role, including “mom”) who gave him extra attention and planted seeds for sweet new connections that buoyed him through that hard year and have stayed with him into adulthood.
Happy Mother’s Day to the moms who gave up their jobs to focus on the unpaid work of getting kids to school on time with clean clothes and brushed teeth, helping with math homework, baking for the school fundraisers, staying up all night when the flu goes around, preparing a hot nourishing meal most evenings, chairing all the volunteer committees, leading the Scout troops. And happy Mother’s Day to some of those moms who sacrificed careers for kids, only to learn years later — when resumes were stale and workplace skills outdated — that the breadwinning parent wanted a divorce, necessitating a second household (at twice the cost), requiring both parents to work (but one now at a far lower rate), and kids around only half the time (despite years of them being the primary focus and central to mom’s identity).
Happy Mother’s Day to the stepmoms, who naively took that leap of faith with a partner who shared the dream that “kids can never have too many adults who love them,” and quickly found themselves free falling with no parachute in one of the most complicated jobs you can imagine. I don’t keep it a secret that stepmothering is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life… far exceeding the challenges of moving alone to new cities, going through my own rocky years of marriage ending in divorce, even breast cancer at age 45. I love my three stepkids, and nothing has ever humbled me more than the messy blended-family life and the hundreds of mistakes I made, some causing lasting hurt, despite my wholehearted good intentions.
Happy Mother’s Day to the moms who read all the books, consulted all the experts, and tried new approaches constantly… only to miss an obvious learning disability (like I did with my son’s dyslexia until 7th grade), or somehow feel responsible for child’s mental illness that no amount of motherly love could cure, or never quite understand exactly what a unique perplexing child most needed despite thousands of hours trying.
Happy Mother’s Day to the moms who have lost teensy babies born too early. And to the moms who have faced every parent’s worst fear — strongly stoic, absolutely destroyed, often both — burying a child after a car was driven too fast, or a deep depression combined with a teenage brain ended a life, or a freak accident or unexplained illness struck a family like an unexpected lightning bolt on a sunny day.
And Happy Mother’s Day to the many who have “mothered” children not their own: beloved aunties (and some uncles), biologically related or not, who do the fun stuff and also can have the hard talks, second moms who take in their own kids’ friends whose home lives get hard, the mom friends who cover for the late mom (me) at school pick up or drive the carpool more than their fair share. Also the mothers-in-law who generously bring a new woman into the family fold, embracing her as though she’s always been included.
I know every single person I’ve described here. You know who you are, despite being unnamed. You’ve all taught me that this world is complicated and messy, and sometimes the deepest joy is found in the unscripted parts, the unconventional families, the losses that show us the depth of love. One thing’s for sure on this Mother’s Day: the world can always use more moms, whatever form they take.
Leigh
P.S. I dedicate this to my own mom, Cheryl, the standard-bearer when it comes to self-sacrificing, unconditional-loving, family-focused, and ridiculously forgiving moms (especially of her oldest child / only daughter).