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Category Archives: Mothers

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“The dishwasher needs to be emptied and could you sort your laundry?”
‘What do you do when I am not here?’
‘Can you buy this?’
‘Do you need change?’
‘You over analyze everything!’

Adolescent angst and righteous indignation from a son to his clueless mother.

Thank G-d for my grandchildren!

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http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/fifty-word-inspiration/
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I wrote this post earlier this morning. After publishing, I peeked at the Daily Post prompt for today:
Ever have an experience that felt surreal, as though you’d been suddenly transported into the twilight zone, where time seemed to warp, perhaps slowing down or speeding up? I gave it some real thought and think that Motherhood qualifies as surreal ~~~ you will do things that you never could have imagined doing, like removing snot from their nose or licking your finger to wipe jam off of their face ~ you will have periods of Deja Vu and pray for Time Warps and time travel machines ~ you will realize that going through labor, and adolescence, and doing it again means that we really have received the milk of amnesia in the hospital. You will see yourself in situations that are truly out of time, space and continuum. You will stand at a wedding and see your child as a little girl with blond curls. Your son will graduate and you will travel in time to the first day of Kindergarten, all in the space of a moment.

Motherhood is the longest running series of the Twilight Zone!

Crying-Babies-mime

You will wear yourself out worrying about your children.

You will stay up nights with newborns, croupy children in fully steamed bathrooms, 4 a.m. calls to get to the ice rink or gym, Will struggle to think of new and creative ways to feed your children and feed them dinner every day. You will buy the clothes and the shoes and the bows and the tie and the socks that match their favorite team’s colors or the colors of their birthday balloons. They will tell you that they no longer like that color, or team, generally at the party that you have worked long and hard to create.

Your children will not remember any of those things.

They will remember the time that you were at your worst and said or did something humiliating. They will not remember the numerous apologies. They will remember it and tell it to their significant other, friend, colleague, and therapist for at least 25 years or more and repeat it over and over until it grows in strength and horror. They will only remember a small part of the situation magnified many times.

You will go to four different stores to find the toy that they love for the Holidays and then empty handed, will secretly buy it on Ebay. You will not want your child to know that you went without something else so that they she would not be disappointed. You will want to be the person to make their magical dreams come true and worked many extra hours to see the sparkle in their eyes and the grateful smile that made it all seem worthwhile.

You will go to great lengths to settle for something so simple as their smile more times than they will ever know.

You will love your children more than they will ever love you. You will try to give them roots and wings and tell them to call you anytime, day or night. They will not call when you think that they will but you will settle all of your anxiety, anger, guilt and fear just to hear them say “Hi Mom.”

You will show off their photos and run out of places to hang their artwork.

You will carry scars that they will never see from giving birth, adopting, raising, and being the recipient of their anger and disappointment thousands of times over.

You will jump through hoops, stay up late, drive thousands of miles and hear that you never did anything for them. And, besides, they never asked to be born anyway.

Your heart will break when that vision of who your child will be crashes to the ground and splinters. Your heart will break when you have to seek professional help for that child or when someone says that it is time to let go.

You will defend the child’s behavior to your spouse, in-laws, teacher, medical professional and law enforcement. But you will pierce your own heart wondering what you did wrong to make him or her turn out this way.

Everything bad that the child does will be blamed on you and their lack of a proper upbringing or careful mothering.

You will never stop having to give money to your child. Period.

You will wonder how it took them two years to develop a vocabulary, and yet, they won’t let you get a word in edgewise.

You will fight for them with principals, teachers, doctors, other family members, and your significant other.

You will give them your last shred of energy even if they are dancing on your last nerve.

You will try to get through their adolescence, realizing that you have failed miserably to learn anything useful to use with your other children. You will realize that none of them behaved the same through those stress-filled teenage years and you will still be shocked and hurt to hear what they each have to say to you.

You will wonder why it hurts each time anew to be the least important person in their daily lives and how much time they want to spend as far away as possible. You will wonder why you have chest pains and stress headaches when they say that they do not want to talk to you, see you, or hear from you.

You will hear things like:
“I hate you”
“You never loved me”
“You were a terrible mother”
“Steven’s mother has food on the table waiting for him when he gets home”
“Sara’s mother lets her go to the Mall alone”
“This is disgusting and I will not eat it.”
“Why can’t you love me unconditionally?”
“Jessica’s Mom lets her……”

You will learn that you have no privacy whatsoever. Not even in the bathroom.

You will come to appreciate that newborns stay where you put them down and cannot say “No.”

You will question your sanity, your finances, your sense of values, your desires, work hours, choice of toys, organic produce, abilities to love and nurture another, the fear that comes with hearing about horrible things happening to children and pray that you never have to make those choices.

You will not know why it seemed so much easier for someone else to raise their children, if a tutor or a second language would have helped them to succeed, or if changing doctors would have affected the outcome.

You will cry more than you laugh and panic more than you sleep.

You will never stop apologizing and wonder why it is always your fault when they do not become accountable. Or accepting.

You will be amazed that you have done so many things over so many years and the time, money, heart, and strength it all took.

You will wonder why children will turn their back on you and seek solace and comfort from some other woman or man who “knows how to be a real parent.”

You will wonder what your life would have been like if you had never done this or had more than one child.

You will wonder if any other mother is going through these things.

You will realize that despite all the drudgery, hard work, sleepless nights, lack of money, hurtful words and withering embarrassment, you would have done it again.

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If you are a Mom, have a Mom, want to be a Mom, or know someone who fits into one of these categories, please share.
Don’t Worry. They won’t be mad. IT’S ALL MY FAULT, ANYHOW.

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http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/28/daily-prompt-twilight-zone/

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so many candles so little cake

It is January 26th – The day after January 25th. So far you are obviously impressed with my superior manipulation of the obvious.

However, my days truly are numbered and the day after the 25th suddenly becomes more weighted with emotion and consternation. Yesterday, my youngest child turned 18; a big achievement and a milestone for us all. However, while I was happy to hear that it was his best birthday ever, it brought reality crashing into the 26th.

This best birthday had nothing to do with me. He is away at school and happy with his teachers, dorm mates and looking forward to bench pressing at the gym.

I brought him into the world and he is more than ready to fly. In fact, he would fly just about anywhere rather than home. No, I am not being maudlin or feeling sorry for myself, it is simply the truth.  His days of adventure and the freedom to travel, without permission slips as a minor, are stacking up like his collection of boxed basketball shoes.

My kids are more powerful and independent and I am more tired. This may be the cycle of things, but it is still scary to see the unknown third act.  Arthritis is setting into my joints as my son bench presses 900 pounds with his legs.  He cannot get his clothes tight enough and I cannot get mine loose.

He tells me that the ability to push off so much weight is all in the mind.  How did the 18 year old figure this out when I cannot? So, it is January 26th, the first day of the rest of my life with “adult children”. Truly, a Mother’s oxymoron if I ever heard one.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/26/daily-prompt-numbers/

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Thanks for stopping by! It means more than you know.

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thanks for stopping by! It means more than you know.
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