A Belated Happy Mother's Day
Alex Steinman
I'm writing this two days after Mother's Day because that is the kind of mom I am right now. I'm two days late, a little unhinged, and very tired. I would've missed Mother's Day had it not been for my own mom asking what I was doing on Sunday. By default, zero expectations made for a successful day. That may be the secret to life. I'll let you know.
Last year, I wrote about all the amazing feelings I had being #Gingerbaby's mom. Calm down, I love #QueenZ too you guys, but she wasn't born until July. This year, I'm like yes feelings, but also mimosa brunch without kids. My mom and I spent the day together, complete with eggs benny, a mani/pedi, and a visit with my Nannie and Pa.
First best part: spending it with my mom.
Tied for second: getting in and out of the car in under 3-seconds, carrying a purse (a real goddamn purse), and some car silence.
My mom is a superhuman. She had a heck of a labor, single-mommed for a while, and managed to listen to me memorize the entire N*SYNC anthology without committing a murder. I didn't truly understand how much my mom loved me until I shot a little red-headed alien out of me.
I feel like such a jerk for waking her up in the middle of the night, for dragging her to horrible choir concerts, and for making her share her string cheese when that's literally the only decent meal she had all day (ok, that last one might just apply to me). There's something about actually experiencing motherhood that makes you re-experience your own childhood.
Can you imagine someone talking to you nonstop for 28 years? Well, I can now. I can also understand how she did it. I'm in awe of my children every single day (even the shitty days). I imagine my mom watching me grow up and thinking, "how was this active, thinking, feeling human in my belly 2...10...19...28 years ago?"
My mom had a life before me. She didn't have to worry about snot on her suit coat, remembering picnic day at school (she forgot once), or me driving for the first time. Growing up, I don't think I realized that my parents even had a pre-kid life. Did I have one of those too?
As the days fly by, glimpses of life before kids seem so far away. Maybe someday my kids will play this conversation in their heads and think, "I wonder if my mom felt this way?" She's my free therapist, my personal comedian, my carb chef, and my friend. I only hope I've as much patience with my children as my mother has for her loud, bossy, stubborn daughter.
Whether you planned every minute or nearly missed it, Happy Belated Mother's Day.
P.S. You might also like Mama Feels. You may not. Totally your blog, your choice.