Things that Go BUMP in my Mind

Knitting, stitching, reading, gardening, cooking--I have no time for any of it.

Monday, May 15, 2006

My mother's day presents.

I had a completely, absolutely lovely mother's day. These were my presents:

(1) An orchid corsage as I walked into church.

(2) Watching Owen wordlessly show his precious lovey, Lion, to a little girl in church. That probably doesn't seem like much to any of you, but for Owen to reach out to another person he does not know? Huge. Completely huge.

(3) A two-hour nap.

(4) A Curious George doll on my bedroom floor. Before his bedtime, Andy and I were playing "hospital" with George, who (I was told) had a boo-boo on his chest. And Andy told me that George wanted to sleep in my room, so I had to be sure to remember to bring him upstairs at my bedtime. I said, "mm-hmm" and immediately forgot about it. But when I came to bed (close to midnight, but that's what I get for taking a two-hour nap), there was George, propped up on Andy's favorite pillow and wrapped in Andy's beloved Bubby--the blankie he totes everywhere, the blankie that he won't let me patch because I only have time to do it at night, and he can't sleep without it. That Bubby. It made George feel better to have Bubby, so Andy did without.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm really not much of a mom. Sometimes, it seems like I am a monumental failure to the institution of motherhood, and I wonder if I should just cut my kids' losses and give them to someone who will do a better job. Last weekend was one of those weekends--completely horrible from start to finish, and I cried myself to sleep Sunday night, thinking of how badly I was failing my kids.

But I did a lot of thinking last week, and I think that maybe, just maybe, I've finally gotten a few basics through my head. Basics like, Andy and Owen don't care if I'm skinny or fat. They don't care if I'm hip or funky or clever (none of which I am, incidentally). They care about whether I am smiling when I pick them up from school. They care about whether I am there for snuggles, or for baseball practice, or at the school play. They don't care that our house doesn't look like something out of Southern Living; they just care that Mommy and Daddy are both there, with them, in it. In short, all that matters to them is that I love them.

And from these basics, I have arrived at the advanced conclusion: All that matters to me is that I love them.


  • At 2:32 PM, Anonymous Judy said…

    Very true. Even my two, at their advanced stages of teenagerhood and "tweenager"-hood, don't care about the house or the car, just that I am there. Nice feeling, isn't it?

    Happy Mother's Day, belatedly.

  • At 4:19 PM, Blogger Norma said…

    You hit the nail right on the head.

  • At 4:45 PM, Blogger pattiblaine said…

    You got that exactly right!


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