Today is my mommy’s birthday. I’ll be a lady and not tell you how old she is. Just that she only gets better with age!
I think I have probably got the best mom in the world. And I’m not just saying that because I wrote a nice post about my dad on his birthday and now I feel pressured *ahem*. As a matter of fact, I’ve said it before. Several of my 100 Things About Me are actually about my mom, such as #66 “I am not nearly as nice of a person as my mom is.” and #78 “I think my mom is the best mom in the whole world, even though – GASP – she didn’t breastfeed me or my brothers.” (Although I would like to add that she DID cloth diaper all three of us!)
My mom taught me, just by being herself, that you don’t have to fit into any category to be a “good mom”. You don’t have to stay home with your kids, work outside the home, make your own baby food, be able to french braid, co-sleep, know how to knit (thank you Lord!), or scrapbook, or buy them the hottest toy every season.
When I think about the good things about my childhood, it has nothing to do with what my mom could or could not do, or the things she did or didn’t buy me – it has everything to do with what she did – which is love me, care for me, read to me, sing to me, rub my back, come to every school event I ever had, and encourage me. When I think of my mom, I honestly cannot thing of anything negative. I can’t remember her ever making me feel bad about myself. I can’t remember every feeling that I was anything but very, very, important to her.
The thing is, there were lots of things that were important to her. Those two other dumb kids she had, for instance, and my dad, and her job, and her work in our children’s department at church. But I never felt second to anything.
I know that she doesn’t feel this way, but it would seem to me, that with my dad’s help of course, that my mom achieved that sought-after state known as “balance.” Balance seems to be a myth in this world, a buzz word, a lofty but unattainable goal. And maybe you won’t know that you’ve achieved it until 30 years later and your child is telling you what a fan-flipping-tastic job you did all those years ago.
Happy Birthday Mom! I hope it was worth the wait. 🙂