I can’t stop thinking about Mrs. Nancy Eisen. She got to go home last week to Heaven leaving an asteroid size crater here on Earth. I’m jealous. She left years of pain and suffering for all the good stuff we should all be holding out for. She didn’t settle for…this. But even though she knew she wasn’t destined for… this and she didn’t belong…here she made here as close to Heaven as she could.
Although known throughout the community for an absolute servant’s heart, providing for any need she could for anybody she could, my heart still resonates for how she served her family, children, and grandchildren. At her memorial service her daughters spoke of family meals, costumes being sewn, their mom at every event yelling just for them, driving from activity to activity as if she was meant just for that.
I wanted to be that kind of mom. But the truth of the matter is motherhood has not come easy for me. As one friend said “motherhood has been the most stressful and the most rewarding part of my life but it’s mostly stressful.” It’s kind of ironic that I claim parent education as my schtick because I’m not that great of a mom most days. I don’t think about making cookies for school or cute homemade photo Valentines. I make the assumption my kids are doing ok in school because school officials haven’t contacted me yet. We have more ‘fend for yourselves’ nights than planned sit down family dinners. I’m glad to see my kids after school or after a long day but I around 4:00 I kind of look up and ask myself “should someone be home around now? Did I forget to pick up someone from school?” Laundry consists of telling them to toss it in the dryer or I’ll run by Kohl’s on the way to school. I make most of their games, some of their performances, and a few parent conferences. I refuse to take part in fundraisers. I wash their sheets when they make mention of how gross they smell. I haven’t bought the youngest a winter coat yet. They schooch mounds of mail and paper off the couch after jumping over a few tons of spilled legos. They don’t even seem to notice the fruit flies.
I wanted to be the kind of mom that had kids in matching clothes, remembered school picture days, made dishes that they bragged about to their friends, wonderfully decorated kid bedrooms, at every event cheering them on, what every woman pictures as the perfect mom. But the truth of the matter is I’m anything but. I get up and occasionally make their lunches and warm up frozen pancakes in the microwave for them. I screech about frantically trying to find two socks that sort of match each morning while yelling at them for not getting their clothes ready the night before. I frequently text them saying “I’m late but on my way, stay under the light.”
As much as I want to be the beautiful, kind-hearted, nurturing soul of Nancy Eisen I just have to work with what I have. Maybe I’m not that great a mother because I lost mine so early in life. Or maybe I’m not that great a mother because I’m actually pretty lazy and selfish. For now, I hear my kids grumbling “what do we have to do to get a hot meal around here…” but I see them snuggle up to me for countless cuddles and kisses. When I do eventually get them to pick them up they come smiling and running and say nothing of condemnation but “hey mom, what have you been up to?” I hear them ask “what can we do together and what movie are we going to see next? and “mom can you pick up some more bagels and frozen waffles?”
As much as I screw up I have to believe I’m doing something right. If nothing else I married the right guy to go through life with these kids.
They are My Reasons. I may not do mothering the way you’re suppose to but I love all my children fiercely and will fight dirty for them.
Who is your model mother?
What part of parenting makes you feel guilty?
What’s your proudest moment as a parent?
One thought on “I may be a slightly different model of motherhood”
I love this. Every once in a while I have one of those “mom moments” where I feel like I did it really well. I hang onto those because they are few and far-between. But like you, the snuggles and kisses and “I love you”s make me realize I must not be doing too bad.