Tag: mothering

The Arms of a Woman

My friend sent a beautiful parable about the strength of women, to our group chat just now. It is an interesting kind of strength that we women have, because often our softness and nurturing hearts, belie our cores of steel, and our hard fast loyalty to our faith and to the mission of our lives.

I think I lost my sanity temporarily on a hike this summer. In a fit of really ugly crying, uncontrollable shaking, and a surge of angry energy that I didn’t know could be held in my body, I tried to explain to my family, the strength that it takes to love a family so much. You love them so much that all you want for each and every one of them, is to experience every amazing adventure and delight that life has to offer, and yet try to balance that, with trying to keep them safe, and whole and innocent and wondrous. I have always told my four children that they are my heart, walking around on eight legs.

My second son is my daredevil child. He’s the one that started my temporary crack-up this summer, when he decided to jump over a waterfall, despite the many warning signs, posted right by the shore. This son has broken more bones than any of my other children, and he is the only child to have been pulled over for speeding in his car. He is the one that was always creating crazy skateboard ramps, or icy sledding moguls, or crashing his bike, even with warnings that he was headed for disaster. My second son has been skydiving and has traveled far distances without us, with a cocky air, that tries to portray that adventures are nothing more to him, than breathing. He’s also the one who always forgets to call, to let us know that he is safe. My second son is brilliant young man with a heart of gold, who dreams of becoming a doctor. He is headed to South America next week to be part of a medical mission. And I am extremely proud, vicariously excited, hesitantly supportive, and absolutely terrified, all at the same time.

I think that is the amazing, balanced strength of a woman. We have arms that hold those who we love so tight and so close, so that they can’t help but know that they are constantly surrounded by warmth and safety and love. Yet we also use those same arms to gently push those same objects of our love, towards their lives’ adventures, with confident, reassuring pats on the back, that all is going to be wondrous and whole. I think that it is amazingly strong to be able to hold and to let go, all at the same time.

With All of My Heart

Happy Mother’s Day!!!

To My Children:

Thank you for coming into my life. You are gifts sent directly from Heaven. I am in awe of each of you. I swell with pride and beam, inside and out, when I think of you. My heart could not hold more love than what I feel for you. I truly think that you got the best parts of both me and your father, and then most importantly, your own individual sparks and special qualities that are unique, only to each of “you”. I am so grateful for everyone and everything that has helped you to evolve to being the precious people who you are today, and who you are evolving to be tomorrow. Every day that I see you or I converse with you or I even just think of you, I feel blessed beyond measure. Being your mother has been one of my biggest privileges of my life and the most growing, expansive experience that I think I will ever have in my life. You are amazing and you are very much loved.

With all of my heart,

Mom

Miss Me More

I have very eclectic tastes in just about everything.  Music is one of those things.  My playlist looks like someone with Multiple Personality Disorder set it up.  My kids are always pleasantly surprised to hear a Drake or Kanye song pop up when they are riding in the car with me.  They aren’t as pleased with the yoga chants and Italian accordion dinner music.  I like some country music, too.  I think country music is especially good at telling a personal story.  Yesterday, the song Miss Me More by Kelsea Ballerini popped up when I was driving.  In the song, the singer laments that she had just broken up with a lover.  She thought that she would really miss him, but what she realizes is that during the relationship she had given up so much of herself, changing to do what she thought would please him, that she actually “missed herself” more, hence the title.  The chorus lyrics are particularly telling:

I thought I’d miss you (when it ended)
I thought it hurt me (but it didn’t)
I thought I’d miss you
I thought I’d miss you

But I miss me more
I miss my own beat, to my own snare drum
I miss me more
Miss my own sheets in the bed I made up
I forgot I had dreams, I forgot I had wings
Forgot who I was before I ever kissed you
Yeah, I thought I’d miss you
But I miss me more (I miss me more)

 

Now, my dear husband is my biggest blog supporter and a daily reader, so I want to make it clear that I am very happy in my relationship with him.  He’s never asked me to change a thing about myself. This is one of the many reasons why I love him so much. The truth is, if we are honest with ourselves, most of the time, people don’t ask us to change ourselves.  But sometimes I think, us women especially, start making subtle changes without even realizing it ourselves.

 

Society is pretty geared towards rewarding women to be pleasers, nurturers and carers.  Now I believe some of this is biological and some of this is just what happens when we start creating our lives and our families.  Both men and women make all sorts of personal sacrifices for our family and career responsibilities.  And we are happy to do these sacrifices, because of the greater good for our families and for society as a whole.  However, sometimes we get in the habit of making unnecessary sacrifices.  We start whittling our lives down to the “necessities” and the “shoulds” and then we reach a burn-out stage and look for someone to blame.  It is painful to understand that the “someone to blame” is often ourselves.

 

Years ago, a friend was telling me that her mother was shaming her for everything my friend expected her husband to do around the house and with the kids.  My friend got frustrated and finally spouted out, “I don’t want to end up being an angry, resentful, victim like so many older women seem to be!!!”  That hit home for me.  It would be unfair for me to feel resentment towards my family, for things I willingly gave and did for them.  Heck, our kids didn’t even ask to be born!  I am willing to bet that most men (not talking about the abusive ones), really ultimately would rather come home to the happy woman he fell in love with, than the one who is seething in resentment but is keeping up “perfect appearances.”  Joan Rivers had a funny line about this.  This is what she said: “Don’t cook. Don’t clean. No man will ever make love to a woman because she waxed the linoleum. “My God, the floor’s immaculate! Lie down, you hot bitch.”

 

I think the song hits a chord by reminding us to give love and self-care to ourselves every bit as much as we give to our children, our partners and our friends.  We tell our children to “be themselves”.  We encourage them to really explore their interests and dive into their talents.  Kids listen to what we do, more than what we say.  It’s the old adage of putting on our own oxygen masks before we can help anyone else.  I remember reading that Jackie Kennedy once said something to the effect that our biggest responsibility to the world is to be happy.  She said that most of the world’s miseries are caused by unhappy people.  Now a lot of times, giving and doing for others feels really good, if we are doing it for the right reasons.   However, if we are giving just to get something in return or giving to the point of martyrdom, then perhaps we really have to check our motives and take our own temperatures.  Our responsibility to ourselves, our loved ones and frankly, to the world, is to nurture ourselves.  We must be kind and loving to ourselves. We must make it a priority to take time to love and grow our own unique characteristics, instead of tucking them away and then blaming someone else for doing what we have actually done to ourselves.  It’s not selfish at all to lovingly care for yourself.  In fact, sometimes it’s the most selfless thing you can do.