And so, on the eve the extravaganza that is Mommy’s Day, I felt the need to speak. (Which is the same as every day but here we are enjoying this post together). Spent the day with my Mom and son. Did my laundry, dishes, waffle making, gardening, and mothering the boy through whatever attitude he’d mustered for me today with his father missing from the boundriatic equation. I’ve been told I make it all look easy and that’s why I get taken advantage of by all the members of the household. The son, the father, and the stunt surrogate daughter.
So I got to thinking, what does it mean to me to be a Mom? Because, as much as I wanted this, I never really knew what it meant or why it was as good as it ended up being. And then I remembered the following post from last summer
“Hi, I’m Julie my son’s cruise director for the summer’s Love Boat. As my son’s summer scheduler, I made sure that he had the kick ass summer he should have before first grade. Legendary? Yes. He got to experience all the ego boosting activities kids are supposed to experience.
Recap. We spent a week at the beach making sand castles and daring waves to dump us. He learned to swim and put his head under water in the last hour there. He went fishin’ and watched two fireworks displays. He has a front tooth with an official wiggle. The boy learned to ride a bike well. He’s begun to read because he’s compelled by his curiosity. He mastered Foosball and all sorts of stuff on Wee Sport Resort. He kissed a girl at Y camp. He performed onstage, rode a pony, and spent a week programming computer characters. And he had his own special day in the middle of August. Come on. If that doesn’t sound like the best summer for a six-year-old, then someone’s an overachiever besides me.
We are their mirrors and the masters of their destinies in many ways. I couldn’t have done any better by him. And I don’t need him to be anything more than happy. Happiness is a gift you give yourself…through your child’s esteem.”
I celebrate myself and my child growing me up and keeping me honest If I’m not at my best, he knows. He can sense my wobbly esteem and he adopts it as his own. So I just signed him up for the two-day camps for the summer of ’12. But Super Mama needs time for herself too. R and R my way, taking care of my needs, and staying present for my life and health and happiness will guarantee a “we all live happily ever after mother’s day” ending.
PS. I lost my surrogate child yesterday to her boyfriend’s abode. When she turned 21, she was already gone .We’ll see you soon dear girl. I’ve got empty nest , sandwich generation , 7-year-old boy syndrome, and temporary single parenthood cooking at once. Buy me a drink sailor?