I guess I kind of idolize her, as she's actually able to pull off that impossible "Supermom" status, a title, which, frankly, nobody really wants. Though it sounds flattering, the second one of the many balls we're juggling drops, somebody...somewhere, will be watching and relishing in our failure. Sadly, you know I'm right. With Cathy and me, our relationship stems from a mutual respect of mamas in the thick of it all. No need to be perfect, no need to prove that we're the best. We're just there to share in the craziness of having so many kids in such a short amount of time.
So, when we met up during our annual holiday cookie party (remember my peaceful December?), she talked to me about what had been an extremely hectic afternoon in her house. That's one of the perks to sharing my business with the world. Women know that I'm the first one willing to be honest and admit defeat. I welcome them, with their ups and downs, into this cozy, comfortable, judgment free-zone with my manta: parenting is hard.
Cathy and I stood side by side in our friend's impeccably decorated kitchen, surrounded by hundreds of the most delectable cookies in every imaginable color, shape and flavor. She was ready to decompress from her stressful day at home, with the allure of butter cream icing, chocolate shavings and confectioners sugar to serve as the best remedies. Cathy had been suffering with an unforgiving headache all afternoon. Then, her four girls came home from school, busting through the door with the same levels of noise, liveliness and desires that they do every day.
As Cathy was scurrying throughout her kitchen to produce a healthy dinner, she was also busy overseeing that all of those kiddos were set for sports and finishing their homework. While her head was throbbing, she chopped, simmered and sautéed. The dog was barking; kids yelled throughout the house as they searched for their work-out gear; somebody needed help with her math problems. It sounded like a typical night for most parents I know. Pounding headache, needy children, demanding pots and pans. Everything and everyone instantaneously screaming for attention.
How does a parent decide which way to go? What do you think was last on the list to be addressed? We all really know. Moms come last.
Cathy is a master of the multi-task, as many parents are, especially during meal prep time. She handled it like the pro that she is.
As the meal which she had painstakingly prepared was finally ready to be served, she proudly brought it to her family. Just when she laid the food out on the dining room table, she thought to herself, "After everything I just went through to make this dinner come together, I deserve a medal." Even through all of the madness, it turned out to be a delicious dinner, one which adults would enjoy and appreciate. As for the children: well, we know how kids can be with food.
Did anyone present her with a medal? How about a trophy? A ribbon?
Nope, nada.
Maybe a groan about having to eat vegetables. Probably a quick "Thanks, Mom" as they scurried to finish the rest of the night's activities (which also required mom's help). Do you know what mom's prize was? Some dirty dishes, a bunch of half-eaten food and the chance to do it all over again, every day, for the rest of her kids' lives.
Is that enough?
Is she being dramatic for asking why moms don't earn medals? Of course not. She's one of the most extraordinary moms I know, and her children are respectful, intelligent and a delight. She's doing something right. What's awesome about Cathy is that when she told me this story, she was laughing. She knows what she's in for with this motherhood thing, and she's learned ways to stay sane through the repetition of her life as a mom. It's so much fun...and remarkably therapeutic...to talk about what we're going through, especially with others who are in this life, too.
All moms have hard days. We all experience times when we feel nobody appreciates us or values the time and effort we put forth to take care of our family and homes. It doesn't mean we would do it differently. It doesn't mean we aren't grateful for the chance to have these children, or to be with them all the time or that we should be teaching them better manners (all stuff someone might say to tear down a parent who gets real about how hard it is).
It just means that we'd like a little credit. Sometimes.
For now, we have to settle on knowing that we are winning at motherhood, even if we don't actually hear it or have physical hardware hanging around our necks to prove it. Let's ask ourselves these questions:
Are our kids growing? Do they hear our voices as they drift off to sleep? Do they have milk in their tummies and blankets to warm them at night? Do they know what books are? Are they showing up for school with clean clothes and full bellies? Do we tell them to brush their teeth? Do we cook vegetables that they may or may not eat. Are they laughing? Do they hear that we love them? Are they asking for our help? Do we shower them with hugs and kisses? Do we take them to the doctor and dentist? Do we rescue them when someone hurts their feelings? Are they seeking our opinions?
I know you can think of a million other ways you are winning at motherhood. It's all these little tidbits throughout our days, that we meticulously manage without a second thought, that make us champion mothers.
So why don't get moms get medals?
Really, what could we possibly do with one more trinket, let alone with all of the medals we'd be winning for the many years of championship mothering yet to come?
For Cathy, a tiny scoop of validation for her hard work was dished out later that evening, when her tray of homemade goodies won the prize for Prettiest Cookies of the Night. See, I told you she's a rock star!
What are some ways you know you're winning at motherhood? Let's cheer ourselves on right here!
I'd love for you to find me on Facebook:
I know that I'm winning at being a mom when my kids ask me to play board games with them. They know I don't do video games, so we still play Guess Who, Monopoly, and my little brother's vintage versions of Jumanji and Pay Day.
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