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Nine Lessons of Motherhood
On my 22nd birthday, I was 8 1/2 months pregnant, huge, not sure how ready I was to become a mother. Two weeks later, my daughter was born, and my life was never the same again.
On my 24th birthday, I had a nine-day-old son in my arms when my friends sang “Happy Birthday.” My son had been due on my birthday but came early. Thoughtful as always, I supposed he didn’t want me to miss my own party by being in labor.
On my 26th birthday, I’d recently discovered I was pregnant with baby number three. He arrived on March 25th, at 4:55 in the morning, and has loved waking us up early ever since.
I’ve recently been looking over older writings of mine and discovered this, something I wrote on my 31st birthday, my ninth birthday as a mother. Nine motherhood lessons to mark that time.
That was 2013, nearly ten years ago. I think of everything that has changed. I think of the mom I am now. Looking back, some aspects of parenting seemed so simple ten years ago. The questions my children had and the problems they faced seemed smaller, more manageable.
But looking over the lessons on motherhood I had gleaned at that time, I realized that they all bear up ten years later. They make sense and there’s none about which I would say, that motherhood lesson no longer applies.
Have I learned more things about motherhood since then? I should hope so, and maybe, when my 41st birthday rolls around next month, I’ll gather a few to share.
But for now, here are the motherhood lessons I’d “learned” or at least begun to recognize, when I wrote this post as a relatively young mother of three relatively young children. (The material has been edited somewhat and I’ve added a few photos from those earlier times.)
Motherhood Lesson #1: I’ll never be a perfect mom.
When I was little, I loved the movie Milo and Otis, about an orange kitten who got lost and his best friend, the pug-nosed puppy, that searched until he found him.
The movie begins in the hayloft, where Milo, the kitten, is just born.
The narrator states that the mother cat, who just had her first litter, vowed she would never raise her voice or lose her temper. Ten seconds later, the mother cat is shouting at Milo, who is crawling dangerously close to the edge of the hayloft.
Kids aren’t static creations. They are dynamic (sometimes very dynamic) — always thinking, moving, changing, learning, and growing. And so are we, as parents. As long as we come to terms with that, we won’t be perfect moms, but we will be real ones.
Motherhood Lesson #2: I will forget to pray for my kids.
I’ve read in parenting books such as Praying the Scriptures for Your Children and The Power of a Praying Mom that, yes, we’ll make mistakes, but at least we moms can pray for our kids every day of their lives.
Another miserable fail, was my thought about that. These are great books and I recommend them, but sometimes I forget to pray for my children.
Sometimes I go through a phase where I wake up early every morning and read a great book on parenting and pray for my kids before they’re even awake; other mornings I get dragged out of bed by my kids and all I want is a few more moments of shut-eye.
Somehow I don’t think God is saying, “Well, since she hasn’t prayed for her children consistently every day of their lives, I’ll curse them and their children’s children from this time forth and even forevermore.”
That’s not the way it works. And with this little motherhood lesson, what I need to do is drop the guilt.
Motherhood Lesson #3: I will make the wrong call sometimes.
Before I became a mom, I vowed that when my kids fought, I would always listen carefully to both sides and make a patient and equitable decision on the matter.
I do that … sometimes. But often I don’t, and I’ll just do whatever makes the arguing stop most quickly, even if it’s not fair.
I’m not as wise as Solomon … but seriously, even Solomon wasn’t as wise as Solomon if you read about the decisions he made later in life.
Nor am I as patient as Job … but Job also sounded a bit dramatic when he made the case that he should have never been born.
What I mean to say is, when we struggle, we make the wrong call. We walk the wrong road. But maybe that’s a good thing because it helps our kids see we’re not perfect and helps them realize they don’t have to be perfect either.
Motherhood Lesson #4: Saying sorry is a good thing.
And because I’m not perfect, I won’t always do or say the best thing in any given situation.
But when I mess up, apologizing works wonders. Some of the sweetest and most heartwarming times with my kids have happened after I just said, “I’m sorry. I should have been more patient,” or “I should have let you finish what you were saying.”
There is nothing like hearing a four-year-old say, “I forgive you, Mommy.”
Motherhood Lesson #5: Kids can (and should) work.
I’m generally the type of person who likes to get a job done on my own. I know how I want it done, and I can do it pretty quickly.
But working side by side with my kids, and teaching them how to do a job not only lightens my workload when they learn to do it themselves, but it builds their confidence and skills like nothing else can.
Lately, I’ve let my older two children choose the cleanup jobs they want to do, and have expected them to follow through, and they’ve done great. I can’t exactly retire from housecleaning just yet, but they’re on their way, and it feels good not to do everything “All by myself.”
Motherhood Lesson #6: It’s never a bad time to say, “I love you.”
My son was sitting at the table doing artwork and I told him I loved him.
He looked up and asked, “Where are you going?”
I suddenly felt guilty; do I really tell my children I love them that infrequently?
I still don’t say it as often as I should … but I’m working on it.
Motherhood Lesson #7: Kids need quiet time too.
My youngest child is the most energetic of the three … by far. He’ll jump from activity to activity and is a people person; he loves it when I’m jumping from activity to activity with him.
Unfortunately, jumping became out of character for me a long time ago. One day I was tired and didn’t know how I would keep up with his amazing energy.
We have a hammock on our back patio and he wanted to play in the backyard, so I reclined on the hammock. He clambered up next to me and was still, listening, for nearly half an hour.
He talked a little bit – about the things we can hear when it’s quiet.
Times of peace and quiet, stillness and listening, are growing rarer in this world of multimedia and multitasking. Learning to be still is an art, one that we mothers need and often overlook. But it’s something that cultivates peace, reflection, and calmness … even in children.
Motherhood Lesson #8: Things never go exactly as planned.
Last year, my daughter was turning eight. I knew the perfect gift for her, a hamster.
Once my husband was convinced, we bought a cage and a hamster and brought them both home the evening before her birthday. We surprised her with it that evening, and she was so thrilled. Early the next morning, before the birthday girl woke up, I checked on the hamster.
It hadn’t survived the night.
I didn’t want this to happen on my daughter’s birthday, when she had only just gotten “The best birthday present ever.” I placed it in a box and told the kids it wasn’t feeling well and needed its rest.
My husband picked up another hamster on his way home from work, with similar markings. Buttercup the Hamster has been with us for nearly a year now.
Jessica’s ninth birthday is coming up and she’s asking for a dog. I think we’ll wait on that.
Motherhood Lesson #9: Parenting is a privilege.
Little people will grow up to be big people, each one unique with their own strengths and weaknesses, their own interests and skills. Each one has marvelous potential, and we moms can help them toward those paths they will take by reinforcing to them how unique and special they are, and cultivating their interests and talents.
I don’t know the future, or what is in store for my children.
But I know that for this little while, I have been blessed to love, teach, and be a mother to three amazing humans. The best gifts ever.
An Outside Glimpse
My four-year-old son had been going through a whiny phase. I found it difficult to hear his words clearly, and frequently told him (probably less-than-patiently) that I could not understand a word he was saying unless he spoke more clearly. Without the high-pitch accompaniment of whines. After my reactions, he usually just stopped trying to say whatever he had been saying. So I would feel bad for shutting him down, and he probably felt worse for not being able to express whatever he wanted to say.
My mom was driving, and I sat in the passenger seat. The three kids all sat in the back seat. My son was talking aloud to himself, which he rarely does. He was going on and on in a very impassioned manner so I tuned in to hear what he might be saying.
“No one understands me!” He was exclaiming to himself, building up a whole case in his little sing-song voice. I tried to reassure him that as long as he spoke clearly, he would be understood. I left it at that, although his self-talk continued.
That weekend, my sister came for a visit with her teenage son. I entered the living room that evening and heard my son telling a story to his aunt and cousin. They were sitting captivated as he narrated the entire tale of how we traveled from India (a couple of months before), including details on the airplane ride, the things he saw, ate, experienced.
After he completed his tale, I told him it was time to get ready for bed. He turned to go, but then added a final line to his narrative: “I need to go now and that’s about all the information I have.”
My sister was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. My nephew commented, “He knows words I didn’t learn until sixth grade!”
The next day, my four-year-old told his plane traveling story to someone else, who also looked extremely impressed. He added a few details, cut out some other parts and had to double back when he forgot something, beginning the story once more from that point on. He breathlessly reached the end of the story with, “And that’s the end of my story of how we came from Bangalore to America.”
Another successful tale. Another impressed listener. My son was happy once more. And I stood in wonder at that outside glimpse. Seeing my child through someone else’s eyes. His amazing vocabulary. His gift of storytelling.
Often, without even realizing it, we put our children in a box, labeled neatly with our perceptions and our assumptions. My son: the whiny one. My son: the strong-willed one. My daughter: the complainer. The boss. The sensitive one. The spoiled one.
Sometimes we put ourselves in those boxes too. But when we’re in boxes and they’re in boxes, we can’t easily reach out and connect. Maybe it takes an outside glimpse. Maybe it takes an intentional stepping out from those labeled boxes. Perhaps a recognition of who they are and who we are beyond those labels. To help us see just how special and unique each one of us truly are.
Bye for the Day, Mom
If you had driven
Down Shields Avenue
Past a school at roughly
9:37 am
You might have seen a brown-haired boy
With glasses, and a button-blue shirt tucked in
Standing against the black steel fence
Waving
A score of other children swung and hula-hooped and dribbled balls and played tag
Forgive the boy waving
As if at the cars driving by
Or those waiting at the bus stand just past the parking lot
Or at nothing at all
He was waving to his mother
He was waving to me
Summer Days a’Coming
This morning I saw a comment from an acquaintance on Facebook, about the upcoming summer break and having more time with her children. I followed the discussion thread, which got a little heated because of the variety of responses by mothers. A homeschooling mother was looking forward to summer for different reasons than her counterpart whose children go to school. Some mothers didn’t seem to be looking forward to the summer. One admitted there were times when she didn’t necessarily “like” her children, especially when they’re all at home. Another mother responded with, “How can you expect others to like them if you don’t like them?”
Yes, it was a little heated. After all, summer is around the corner.
Last week I did my finals for the semester. Tomorrow is my kids’ last day at school. I spent some time this week just thinking about and trying to plan for summer. Due to the busyness of the semester and other things going on at home and with my family, I feel that I’ve lost ground in my relationship with my children.
One of them has been going through a phase that is lasting longer than I expected. I’m starting to fear that it is turning into a perspective on life rather than a stage. This worries me because it has to do with having a “can’t do” mindset about things.
I know that, as a mother, my first responsibility this summer is to my children … as it always is. If one of them is going through something and it’s coming out through their words and outlook on life, it needs attention.
There are plenty of other things going on. I’m teaching courses for the first time in my life (and for a woman who still struggles with social anxiety, this is a huge thing. I’m shaking in my boots and though excited I’m asking myself, What on earth did I get into?)
As soon as I drove away from campus last Thursday after finals, my mind started racing ahead to everything I can read this summer, everything that I hope to write … and then skipped over to home improvement projects. My sister and her kids moved out this last weekend, so with the kids’ room changes, I have more than a little bit of cleaning and organizing to do.
I had to stop myself. I want the kids to enjoy their summer. A few years ago, I made a comprehensive (and overly ambitious) summer plan. Needless to say, we accomplished maybe one item on it. This summer, although I worked on a schedule of sorts, I tried to leave it a lot more flexible this time around.
I know they’re eager to swim this summer. After all, it’s Fresno and temperatures are already pushing past 100. (And I’m hoping that swimming will make up for my lack of exercise during the first five months of this year.) We’ll have chores and a Bible class before swimming/activity time, which will knock two things off my mental “teach-my-children” list.
Cleaning up after themselves, with the three of them living in the same room over the past year, has slid more than a little bit. Having chore time together will help us begin on the right note.
Bible class time is another thing that drifted to the back burner, during school days and even some weekends. That is one thing I need to keep as a priority. I know what grace and patience and faith my times with God grant me and I want my children to experience something of the same.
That’s the general idea of our schedule, at least the most important things: fun, faith, and family. I have a few other ideas/ projects/ hopes for the summer, but need to wait until I’ve had time to discuss them with the kids and see what they are hoping for.
So overall, if the discussion hadn’t already been so heated, I think I would say I’m looking forward to the summer. I’m excited about spending more time with my kids. I know there will be challenges – sibling disputes, messes left around, uninspired moments – but the prospects far outweigh any difficulties. After all, it’s a whole season of fun and sun and crazy-excited kids with the world ahead of them. What could be better?
What are your plans this summer? Do you go on vacation? Relax at the poolside? Tackle a family project? Please leave your thoughts and input below. We can share ideas about how to make this a great summer for both parents and children.
Mother’s Day Writing Contest Winners
Congratulations to our winners: Gaby (73 likes), Helen (72 likes), and Charlotte (71 likes)! It was so close! I wish everyone could have won something because every story is so special. Every memory. Every moment.
Every mother!
I so enjoyed reading these memories and reflections on mothers and memories from childhood that I’m thinking about writing some posts with memories of my childhood.
The idea also developed with an assignment from my photography class. For the final assignment, my professor said we can choose one subject and take 20 photos on that theme. My immediate choice (naturally) was my children. Then I began to wonder, “What kind of pictures should I take?”
The concept began to form: take pictures that coincide with my own childhood memories. Images began flooding into my mind. Eating ice cream while sitting on the back of a station wagon with my siblings, running through sprinklers, playing shadow tag, moving the lawn with a push-mower, pillow fights and raking leaves, fishing, jumping on a trampoline. So many iconic flashes. I hope I can capture them all.
More than that, I hope that my children are developing images of their own. I pray that special memories are forming in their minds, things they can carry with them always. To remind them of being loved.
Because no matter what else I might have to offer, or might not have … one thing I can unequivocally give my children, one thing we can all offer our children, is love.
The love of a parent. Imperfect, yes. But somehow unconditional. Somehow transcendent and beautiful and enduring. Even if it’s all we have to offer our children … it is enough.
Ambitions for a Perfect Motherhood
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My Lifetime Friend: My Mother – Mother’s Day Contest Entry Bonus
My Lifetime Friend: My Mother
By Wendy Lee Klenetsky: Proud Daughter Of Cecile Seigal
Throughout childhood and adolescent days,
She was my staunchest supporter,
And through teen years and young adulthood
I was glad to be her daughter.
As a mother-in-law and grandma,
She’s there whenever/wherever she’s needed,
And if this was to be her lot in life,
She’s definitely succeeded.
But whatever she is to other folks;
A friend, sister or other,
She is to me, and will always be
MY LIFETIME FRIEND: MY MOTHER!
About Wendy: I’m a 63-year-old wife of a great guy (40 years), and mom of two wonderful girls (both of whom married 11 weeks apart in 2013). Until old age hit, I was a 20-year league bowler. Now I’m a freelance writer, sweepstaker, knitter and crocheter. That’s me…in a NUTSHELL!
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It’s Always the Quiet Ones – Mother’s Day Contest Entry
It’s Always the Quiet Ones
By Lindsay Guido
This is my adorable mom 40 years ago. Throughout her entire life, she has sacrificed her own comfort to provide warmth, security and support to everyone in my family.
She spent countless hours caring for me when I was almost constantly sick as a child. She made special Halloween costumes by hand (the likes of which did not exist in the ‘80s.) Every birthday cake (made from scratch) had a special custom picture of my choosing made of frosting. Even my hideous corrective shoes got magical pictures of unicorns painted on them so I would feel better. During my childhood I had a pony, took yearly trips to Disney World and spent every day of the summer pretending to be a real mermaid in our own swimming pool. Hey everyone, you can stop being parents now … it’s been done to perfection.
Then onto my nightmarish and chubby teenage years where she assured me that I did not have “back fat” (though I clearly did), that I was pretty and nice, and that the bad things that came with adolescence were not my fault (though some of them obviously were.)
And now, even as I contend with complex adult problems, she continues to encourage me, to incentivize my successes and try to inspire me to embrace change.
We enjoy watching old Judy Garland movies and marvel at how far women have come since then. I should mention she also still becomes concerned when I try to eat a sandwich that is more than 24 hours old. She puts up with every stupid, selfish thing we all do without judgment or complaint.
Now her caretaking extends to my sister’s kids and her elderly parents. Yet she still finds the energy to rock out to “Just Dance” with the kids. With this kind of upbringing, I should be president by now.
But this for once is not about me.
Honestly, she deserves way more than a gift card, but it would be a nice start…
About Lindsay Guido: 34-year-old woman going thru a divorce. About to reinvent my life and go to college for the first time.
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