The Big M-hood

Happy Mother's Day!

In the past I have honored the mothers in my life, and before I start, I just wanted to say again how grateful I am for these women.  My mom, who I can't imagine my life without.  My mother-in-law and grandmother-in-law (is that even a word?) who raised the amazing man I married.  Both my grandmothers, amazing women who are still an inspiration to me even though they have moved on from this life.  But today, I thought I'd randomly blogivate (I'm big on inventing words today) on what being a mother means to me personally.

This is the 15th Mother's Day I am celebrating as an actual mom.  (There are lots of moms in spirit and surrogate moms, but I wasn't ever really one of those.  I guess I needed to experience the real deal to get into the nurturing spirit.)  Anyway, I was chatting with a new acquaintance at a birthday party yesterday whose oldest child is the same age as my youngest, and I realized that to some women, at least, I might look like I know what I am doing in this motherhood role.

Hah!

But I have had a lot of experiences as a mom that have enriched and challenged me in ways that nothing else ever has.

Just some memories that stand out, for no particular reason:

• When I had my "gender reveal" ultrasound with M, I was so certain that I was having a boy that I was literally in shock when they told me it was a girl.  I was so much in shock that I felt guilty, that maybe I was a bad mom because I had felt disappointment rather than elation.  (Wow, mom guilt kicks in early, right?)  I cheered up right away though, going shopping and buying two of the most adorable little girl outfits-- in blue, mind you.  None of that girly pink.  Kind of prescient, considering that at this point in her life, M prefers the color blue in everything she wears.  (I think she must have a half dozen t-shirts in varying shades of blue.)
• J was such a wanderer, as soon as he was able to walk.  When he was two, we had to put up a security chain on the door all the time to keep him in-- he learned to undo deadbolts young. I learned that to my dismay when he disappeared and after frantically searching everywhere, I finally found him headed blithely down the dirt road that led to the dry riverbed about a mile from our house.  This wandering has never ended, but at least I don't worry too much about a teenager wandering around.  (So many stories to tell . . . .)
• B was a climber.  OK, most of my kids were climbers.  (M was scaling the bookcase at 15 months.)  But B was the first to nearly give me a heart attack because she had older siblings that she wanted to copy.  One day when she was about 3, she was walking the couch backs like a tightrope walker and landed head first.  It was a really bad fall, which I knew right off the bat because she immediately became quiet and withdrawn.  (Not B at all.)  I sat and cuddled her and worried and prayed, not sure that I needed to take her into the doctor-- after all, there was no injury to be seen.  Terence actually came home early from work and gave her a priesthood blessing with our home teacher.  After that she perked right up and got back to being her chattering, active self. It was such an eternal hour of waiting and worrying for me.  Good practice though, for all the head bumps that came later (mostly K and S, who were even bigger daredevils than B.  I guess I was desensitized by then, because I remember shrugging when I caught toddler S leaping from the top of the bunk bed into her crib.)
• K has caused me to learn far more about natural disasters than I ever thought I would.  K's curiosity had led to books and videos on tornadoes, earthquakes, hurricanes, mudslides, geysers (mostly because of the "Yellowstone Volcano," as he puts it), tsunamis, monsoon storms, and fires.  (I think we've checked the same three volcano books out of the library two dozen times now.)  Even today, K wanted to know if I thought maybe a tornado might be on its way, and if we would still go to Grandma's house if there was a tornado.  (Perhaps he is a future stormchaser?)
• S is the living rebuttal to the negative thoughts that sometimes haunt me about whether or not I am a good mom.  She will literally tell me on a daily basis that I am the most amazing person, the best mom in the world, that I am "so good," or any other of another of variety of compliments.  How can I doubt her?  She is so sincere!  Even at my most discouraged, S can elicit a smile.

In short, I'm very grateful for the five unique individuals who give my life such purpose and drama and adventure, and sweet, tender moments.  Being a mom is awesome!!!