Tag Archives: Mothers

A Mother’s Day tribute….

In 2005 I was honored to have a piece I’d written about motherhood included in one of the fabulous Chicken Soul for the soul books – EVERY MOM’S SOUL

The essay was called MOTHERHOOD: A TRANSFORMATION and it seems fitting I reprint it here today for all the Mom’s who read this blog.

“Once upon a time I was a nurse, a writers, and a wife.

Then one day, I had a child. I became a mother.

Added to the list of things I previously was, I became: a chauffeur, a cook, a dresser, a wiper of dirty faces, a cleaner of soiled diapers, a retriever of thrown socks, a finder of lost shoes, a doer of homework, an insomniac. I was a referee in toy wars, a slayer of nighttime dragons, a soother of nervous school jitters. I was a room mother, a den mother, a leader of Girl Scouts, and one day, mother of the bride. I calmed tantrums and bolstered fragile egos.

With each passing day my talents grew.

I became a baker of cookies, a sewer of Halloween costumes extraordinaire. I could braid hair in the time most people wash their faces. And I could smile even when I didn’t want to.

Where once my body had been my own to do with as I pleased, it now belonged to someone else. It became : a breast to nourish at, a shoulder to cry on, a lap to sit and cuddle upon. My lips became kissers of boo-boos, my hips the transporters of small, squirmy bundles. My feet were now used to walk the floor at all hours of the night, my arms became a cradle. I grew eyes in the back of my head and my hearing went supersonic.

Once upon a time my name was Peggy.

Then I became a mother and had as many aliases as a con man. I was, at various times, Mm, Ma-ma, Ma, Mommie, Mom, Mother, MOTHER! and for a brief period of mental vexation, Peg.

My mind, which used to flourish with egocentric thoughts now became filled with irrational ideations. What if she falls out of the crib? What if he chokes on his food? What if I do or say the wrong things? How will I know I’m a good parent? How will I know I’m a bad one?

My house, once so orderly and tidy became a disorderly jumble of toys and stuffed animals, dried peas and empty, strew formula bottles; a carpet of clutter and chaos; a dwelling of disarray.

My heart, once only given to another, was now taken from me and filled to the brim, bursting with devotions and love.

I was a MOTHER. I was an icon. I’d done something no man had ever done, accomplished a feat so death defying and magical that many wouldn’t attempt it.

I became a MOTHER.

And, in so doing, I became all that I was, all that I ever wished to be.

 

~ Happy Mother’s Day

Peg

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Proud Mama…

Yesterday, my niece and nephew had school pictures taken, one of those rights of passage I miss now that my own daughter is an adult.

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Anyway. ..

My sister-and brother-in-law both posted the picture of the two kids as they were leaving for school on their facebook pages and texted them to family members so we could see how great they both looked. My niece, as always, is just stunning. Truly. She is already a blonde beauty just like her mother. My nephew also looked stunning. He is one handsome little gent, made more so yesterday because he wore a tuxedo to picture day. Why, you ask? I did too, and My S-I-L told me he wanted to wear one so he’d look good,  so they rented one for his size.

Really, too adorable for words.

Apparently, on his FB page, under the picture, my bro-in-law put  a caption that read a little like this: Bond, James Bond and a beautiful Bond girl. ( Not an exact quote, but mostly.)

I thought: “How cute.”

My daughter, who happens to be this niece’s God Mother, commented, “*** ( My niece’s name, which I am not going to publicize because she is just a kid!) is not a Bond Girl. She’s the next M.”

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LOL!

Truly, you know you have raised an amazeballs daughter when she puts something like that into the universe! Proud never seems to be an adequate descriptor for me when I talk about her. Amazing. Empowering. Powerful. Intuitive. Brilliant.  All those and many more are better descriptions of the human being she is.

 

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So, for all those mamas who have raised amazeballs daughters who are actually making a difference in the world’s perceptions and thoughts about females : God Bless and Congrats!!!

 

erin3

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Mothers…we all have them

Today is one of those days my husband refers to  Hallmark-made days. A day – he feels – greeting card companies institute and promote. I think I read somewhere  there are more cards sent on this day than on Valentine’s day and Easter combined.

And I believe it because we all have, or have had at some time, a Mother. We wouldn’t be here right now if we didn’t.

Since I am such an avid reader, Mother’s day got me to thinking about all the famous and infamous mothers in literature. There have been a bunch of memorable ones and like I’ve said before, Google and Wikipedia have lists for everything, so did a search for the Best Mothers in fiction.

Here are some of the tops names. See how many you recognize and if you agree with their inclusion in the list.

It’s interesting, I think, to note that two of the moms are defacto moms, not biological ones. Mammy, in GWTW, is Scarlett O’Hara’s nanny, and is African American to Scarlett’s lilly white, but she is closer to her than any mother who gave birth to her. Mammy is the sound of  Scarlett’s  conscious on most decisions, and cares for her charge more than Scarlett’s mother ever did. Mame Dennis is Patrick’s Aunt, but she raises him after he is orphaned and brings him to maturity, offering him a world of excitement and adventure to squash his staid upbringing. She instills in him a sense of fun and whimsy he’s never had before, all the while showing him unconditional love and devotion.

I also find it interesting that two of the moms – Mammy and Marmee – are raising their “children” during times of war and national strife and economic downfall. They valiantly attempt to protect their young from all the horrors of war – famine, poverty, loss – and help their children grow into productive adults. Ma Ingalls has to face uprooting her family to travel west for a better life. She copes with floods, drought, sickness, blindness, famine and poverty within her family, yet always manages to make their lives a little bit better through her kind actions and thoughtful heart.

Mrs. Lancaster must deal with every parent’s nightmare : a sick and potentially dying child with cancer. She wants nothing more than to make her daughter’s life light and happy despite the tragic diagnosis, and through her caring and loving ways, she epitomizes the intrinsic and internal strength of will every mother possesses.

That’s what I come away with from having read all these books: the strength of the “mothers.” Be it internal, external, religious or spiritual, all these women have strength, Strength of character, of morality, emotional strength, fortitude, and determination. There is not one mother on this list who wouldn’t fight to the death to protect their young. The instinctual force of maternal protection inhabits every one of them.

Today, think about your Mom, or the person you consider Mom. In a way it’s a little sad we have to earmark one day a year  to remember her – we should be paying her homage everyday, and in the perfect world without stressors and strife, we would. But today, call her and tell her what she means to you. Sending a card or flowers is nice, but in reality, the thing your mom wants most is the gift of your time – of you!

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