My almost-5-year-old son threw sand at me yesterday. What's worse, he did it right in front of our neighbors. He didn't want to go home, and that was his rebellion. Later, he got me flowers -- or, at least, he got my husband to buy me flowers. He picked out the color: "Pink. I think Mom will like pink, Dad."
In his preschool-age mind, there was no contradiction between these two events. From where I stood, it was much more complicated. As is most of motherhood.
As we pause on this day ...
... to receive our breakfasts in bed, our flowers on the table, our cards and hugs and "World's Greatest Mom" coffee cups, these kinds of contradictions and complications fade away for a brief moment.
But motherhood today is nothing if not complicated. We've got more options than any previous generation of mothers, and that's a blessing. But it often leaves us running in six different directions trying to be everything we're told we can be.
Those women you see darting around town -- the ones who race down the steps of the New Jersey Transit stations at night, hurrying to pick up their kids at daycare before the clock strikes 6:30? Fifty bucks says most of them are awake at midnight, throwing in another load of laundry and returning emails after feeding, bathing and tucking in their kids. The 24/7-ness can be relentless.
All the while, like white noise in the background of their lives, the celebrity tabloids are screaming, "Look! Heidi Klum was back on the runway six weeks after giving birth!" And Dr. Sears is reminding them that if they really care about their babies, they'll wear them in a sling for months. Bonding, you know.
Today, the moms on your block will probably still have some work to do. Maybe they'll be changing diapers, helping with homework, chasing after toddlers. Oddly enough, it's in those moments that the stunning beauty of motherhood can suddenly appear. The sight of my 17-month-old learning a new word or falling asleep in my arms can fill my heart so fully it feels like it might burst.
Earlier yesterday, before the afternoon sand-throwing interlude, my older son sat on the floor of my study and wrote, in his still unsteady hand: "Happy Mother Day Mom. You are the ..."
He ran out of space on the page and got distracted before he could finish the sentence. But I sort of like it better left blank. Because when it comes to this job, there are so many words I could - and will - fill in for as long as I am a mother.
Sure, it's complicated. But that's what makes it so worthwhile, so unlike any other experience in the world. Would you really want it any other way?
Happy Mother's Day Melissa....and to All the Mother's who are always "There" when needed...and who's Love is Ever Lasting.