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amazing mother

A few weeks ago, I found myself lost in a time warp. Hours magically disappeared and I found myself wandering in the past…..

I took a trip to Target. For some, this is a weekly occurrence; for me, I have embraced online shopping for a long time, but decided to take a detour from my usual daily living.

While wandering the aisles, I looked at the arts and crafts supplies that I used to purchase in abundance. I saw the loot bags and treats to celebrate birthdays with young friends. Pretty clothing, funny tshirts, shorts, socks, small-sized sneakers… These used to be a few of my favorite things.

The shelves were crushed with fruit juice boxes and jumbo size bags of chips and snacks for packing 15 years of school lunches. I had lists of Column A and Column B choices for each child’s particular pickiness about fruits, sides, and main lunch options. Despite years of uneaten lunches and complaints, they all appear to have grown well and not a malnourished child in sight.

I am now so far away from being that parent to small children for whom I wanted to make things perfect. The attempts to find things to make them smile and be the prince or princess of their days seems long forgotten and dusty in their memories.

But, it was a reminder of where my life used to be, and transported me to another country, time, and place. Hours and years disappeared as I wandered those aisles.

I know that they cannot remember so many of the fine details that I labored over or the worries that entangled each decision for their well-being.

The life of a mother is long, as are the memories, and even when no one else can remember, we do. Our children are always in our hearts and on our minds; even the details of a life lived in the past remain with us always.

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Thank you for stopping by! I hope that you enjoy your visit.

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There are so many changes in our world and fast-moving media with blaring criticisms, that we rarely hear about the small town pride and patriotism that can exist.

In small town Kensington, Maryland, one such event took place on July 4th.  Two roads were closed keeping a small park protected from traffic.  Parents brought their children on bikes, and in strollers, for a mid-morning July 4th parade on wheels.  Bicycles decorated with American flags and creative flourishes of red, white, and blue, mixed with strollers festooned with balloons and banners.  An ice cream truck was parked near the curb and parents sat with their toddlers on blankets on the grass.

At 11 a.m. the parade commenced. Children learned about their flag, their home, and country to develop pride, faith, history and about Independence of the national and freewheeling kind.

Red-faced, but happy, children walked hand-in-hand with their parents in the bright sunshine and high temperatures.  Warm, sticky, but glowing with fun and good cheer, memories were created and associated with a time of simple pleasures and gratitude for freedom and opportunity.

Observing the event, it did the same for me.

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Thank you for stopping by.  I hope that you enjoy your visit!

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motherhood_baby feet.jpg

“The best way to keep children at home is to make the home atmosphere pleasant, and let the air out of the tires.”
― Dorothy Parker

 

Motherhood begins with the dreams of a perfect family photo and gratitude for a healthy child. But, it is physically and mentally demanding.  Every decision seems to be wrong and the hopes of fulfilling the magical child in an organic and creative environment are harder to fulfill.

The moments of clarity, and the view from afar, allow moments to treasure.

The artist prince has created his art with an empathetic heart, donations to charity, and a well-cultivated and ambitious combination of business and marketing savvy.  He has turned lemons into spiked lemonade with a wry sense of humor.

The education princess chooses to help her students, and her children, experience learning, self-esteem, and respect in a daily practice to allow them to develop fine characteristics and enhance their faith in G-d.

The museum princess feels safe in the heart of our nation’s public institutions.  She engages visitors, creates educational programming, and has designed a plan to make museums welcoming and inclusive learning environments.

The youngest prince is still trying to find his way.  He has discovered that physical activity and hard work satisfy both his hands and his mind.  He loves to travel and is a loyal friend.  Wherever he goes, he needs to combine a social life with religious observance and stay true to who he wants to be.

It seems that I am far past the point of being able to impart life lessons or ethical decisions.  As a parent, the desire to be involved in our adult children’s lives, but remain an out of sight observer, is a dance that I am still struggling to learn the steps to.   Can they create long-standing relationships between themselves and their families?  What do we leave behind and how do I strengthen who they are going forward?

Have I become irrelevant already?

Their paths have led them so far from where I could have ever imagined.  These are the moments I treasure; reflecting on how much they have achieved and how they are adding their gifts,  imprint, and humanity on the world.

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/treasure/

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Memories of childhood are a fragile thing.  The good things slip away while the negative things are enhanced.  History is revised and pain is magnified.  We carry a lot of baggage from our childhoods and struggle to let it go.

I spoke with one of my closest friends and, naturally, we spoke about motherhood and our children.  “You?” she said, “You were the Martha Stewart of mothers!”  Me?  She recalled the baking, the art projects, special foods, clothing, the trips and other things forgotten by the wayside. She said she was there all along and saw how much I did.  She said that she wished that my children could hear the love that I speak with for them and the sorrow that little of it seemed to be remembered.

We have photos, emails and witnesses to our efforts to succeed as parents.  But, layers of fear and insecurity lodge deep in our hearts and minds no matter how old we get.  Sibling rivalry seems to continue and anger blossoms.  We replay and repeat stories until they intensify in their importance or we create “new” memories.

As young adults, we seek to do everything differently than our parents and cover up the psychic wounds with activity.  As we get older, we doubt the level of love and connection to our family members.  My parents certainly didn’t love every decision or behavior of mine, but, thankfully, we had open dialogue about it.  Did they love us enough? Was their love “unconditional”?  I don’t know anyone who is loved unconditionally.   Loved fiercely? Absolutely.  But, while we love deeply, we do not always agree with the choices made or individually developed personal philosophies.  We are separate persons with different experiences and opinions.  These ideologies are just not our own, so our understanding differs.

Our children never stop being our children whether young or old.  I still get a thrill when I get a smile from my father or hear a shared memory.  But, I can also flinch when I hear his anger and feel like a young child again.  It takes a lifetime to figure out who we are within, and without, our families.  We don’t always remember the same moments from a single event, but we love.

We have layers of history and time that cannot be replaced.  No one will know us as long as the members of our family.  We create many friends who become like family.  But the bond of parenthood goes deep.  We never want to hurt our children and struggle to communicate this.

“Life is like an onion.  You peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep.”                                                  Carl Sandberg

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Our words are misunderstood as judgmental or disapproving.  Our tone, our words, our actions, and our motives are questioned and doubted.

I only have so much time to impart lessons and envy those with symbiotic relationships with their children.  My hope has been that my children turn out to be good people, kind and empathetic, in and out of the home.  I don’t expect them to live near me, but I do hope that they succeed in whatever it is that they do.  Whatever “happy” means, I want them to find it.

It takes a lifetime to be a parent, but we keep trying to show them the depth and layers of our love no matter how long it takes.

children are the only people that bring you to brink of insanity.jpg

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/layers/

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Thank you so much for stopping by.  I hope that you enjoy your visit.

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/layers/

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