A Different Sort of Mother's Day Wish

As tomorrow opens, many mothers will be awakened with cards and hugs, maybe even flowers or breakfast in bed. I myself am hoping for a warm latte and some sweet snuggles sometime after the ludicrously late hour of 8am. Also a bit of time alone.

There is a homemade gift from Oliver, wrapped simply and on the front table. He made it at school, and I suspect it may be a frame he decorated, with a photo of him smiling in the funny, Tweety Bird way he does when he's shy or posing.

I heard Jack and Tom speak in mysterious and hushed tones today, and my Dad casually bought a bouquet of flaming orange and happy yellow Gerber daisies while we were at the market earlier and placed them in a vase on my table once home.

I feel so grateful for those people who've made me a mom and celebrate me as such, and to them all I extend a hug of appreciative love: to my own mother and my grandmothers, but also to my aunts, sister and the other special women in my family. Those who have loved me in any sort of mom'ish way.

This year, I'd also like to issue a broader, deeper wish to all out there who are mothers in some way, who are mothered by others and who have chosen not to or cannot mother.

To me, maternal is to mother what catholic is to Catholic. It's an umbrella description that contains specific roles and identities but is more than those discrete entities.

Maternal are the older (than me) women I met while I was in college who loved and respected and watched over me despite a complete absence of familial connection between us. Donna and Julie and Marie come immediately to mind.

Maternal are the mothers of friends with whom I still correspond. The former teachers who've kept up with me, long after I left their classrooms for the last time (Abbey, Mrs. W, Mrs. R). The girlfriends without whom I simply don't know what I'd do (you know who you are, and I love you.) The writer friends I've not yet had the fortune to meet in person and also those I have (WWW, Muses). The foodie friends who know a side of me that not everyone does. The amazing cadre of people who take the time to read my blog and let me know that it means something to them.

Maternal too are those who recognize that even the happiest moms struggle sometimes and who acknowledge that as life and that it's ok. Those who simply love and show up.

Were I not mothered by all of you, I would not be nearly as happy or whole.

Today my heart goes out to all the people who have lost someone in the maternal realm: a child, a mother, both, more. My heart celebrates all those who are enormously happy but also those for whom such joy is harder to come by. I hope you are mothered today in a way that is meaningful and validating to you.

I hope that our country can start to recognize that our pitiful family leave and general maternity policies (like not making nursing and pumping easier) undermine the family ideal we exalt, and that taking away women's rights to make their own reproductive choices does the same. I hope that same sex couples soon have no barrier to adoption, surrogacy or insemination. I hope that more conversations can be had about the threads of connection that have unraveled in many of our communities, leaving more mothers feeling alone or lonely or misunderstood or self-loathing. 

I hope for all the moms and aunties and sisters and friends out there, who mother in different but important ways, that you are recognized and appreciated in some way on this Mother's Day. 

Love to all those who care for me and allow me to care for you back.

Topsy Tuesday

Sleep deprivation from (not) sleeping with and tending to my sick Ol for the past three nights is starting to wear on me. He didn't go to school yesterday, and I knew as soon as I woke up this morning, his sweaty little head in the crook of my right shoulder, that he'd stay home again today. 

Ol is the sweetest, easiest sick kid there is, but I am not as young as I once was and I also have nothing left in the way of post-pregnancy or nursing hormones. Swear to god, those things are tricksters of the best sort. I used to get up and rock and nurse my boys with a smile on my face. It was the loveliest, quietest time although admittedly, I often felt on another planet. (And surely not every feeding session was so welcome or magnificent; mastitis anyone?)

Once, so out of it at my parents' house after waking to feed Ol for the umpteenth time, I remember passing my mother in the hall (she is a night owl of extreme degree). I was weaving a bit, but her odd expression wasn't about that. No, it was because my left breast was hanging out of my nightgown. I guess I'd forgotten to tuck it away. 

Whatever. Point is, I'm not there anymore, in any way, and these sleepless nights are exhausting.

Fortunately, Tom made me coffee this morning with a fetching fig design on top. It helped. I took Mr. J to school, took Ol to the doctor and then watched as he took to the table with a box of kleenex and the iPad. 

He watched more episodes of Oggy and the Cockroaches than I care to admit (though it is an amusing and largely wordless show), but the child could hardly lift an ice cream sandwich to his lips, so I just let him go. I made jam and tidied up and wrote for class.

Especially because I'm tired, it has been tough to negotiate my dismay and frustration over not having had these past two mornings nor, in all likelihood, tomorrow's. I've canceled at least five appointments in the past two days and spent almost none of the time in class that I'd relished last week or committed to for this one.  I have, actually, had an excellent time with Oliver, and I love caring for such a sweet and funny soul, but...

Ah, motherhood. Look, it even makes Nutmeg pooped.

That cat is out! 

Jack and his wild creativity (and terrific nerdtastic'ness!) did provide me a hearty belly-laugh tonight.

"Look, Mom! It's an Imperial Pi Fighter!" #starwarsandnerdhumor

Imperial Pi (vs. TIE) Fighter

I laughed so hard I almost burped. Swear! I'm going to sleep now. 

May the 4th Be With You: 5 wise things from Star Wars

This May the 4th finds me at home with a sick Oliver. Incidentally, he is also one of the biggest Star Wars fans in the world, so we are celebrating with Star Wars vehicle cookies, Darth Mault shakes (vanilla ice cream blended with malted milk balls) and a marathon movie fest that commenced with A New Hope.

It's been a long since I've actually sat down to watch these films. The boys watch them so often that they're like an omnipresent background noise; always on and yet unnoticeable. But in sitting here, I'm really quite transfixed. Kitschy though it is at times, there is much wisdom in this epic.

Five Bits of Wisdom From Star Wars

Firstly, the gender equality is terrific. Princess Leia is so strong and confident; her voice is her own, assertively and still femininely so. In the later films (earlier episodes), Padmé Amidala serves as both Queen and, later, Senator of Naboo. Zam Wesell is a bounty hunter. 
There aren't a ton of female characters, but those there are aren't damsels in distress or wall-flowers. They are strong and fiery.

Secondly, the diversity and tolerance in Star Wars is fantastic. Just look around the cantina on Tatooine. Or at the Jedi council. Seriously, just do that. Droids, aliens, snout-nosed people, beings that look like they have asses on their chins, men and women of color, wookies...What matters is loyalty and courage and whether or not you want to fight for what's right. Just look at the way Chewy lovingly repairs C3P0 after he gets blasted in The Empire Strikes Back. C3P0, whose voice and affect remind me SO much of the Dowager Countess (Downton Abbey), can be god-awfully annoying, but Chewy just sits there and works him back to wired health.

Millenium Falcon-shaped cat

Thirdly, and Oliver brought this point up, the basic messages such as "Trust your feelings" and "size matters not" are right and meaningful. Our feelings, our inner voices, the light within...any way you want to spin what it is to listen to our selves, it's a wise thing to do. And something that, for many of us, gets harder with age.
Work against that temptation we should; listen to ourselves we must.

Fourth, the emphasis on the value in taking the tougher path and spending time to learn something well is a critical reminder in this day and age of immediacy in both input and response. Mastery takes time as does getting to know people well. Both are worth it, but you must invest in the process.

Lastly, while I think it's so important to feel and honor our feelings of frustration and anger, just look what happened to Anakin Skywalker when he let his hatred and rage overtake him. He got all burned up on Mustafar and had to become Darth Vader to survive. He was powerful, yes, but he couldn't take his helmet off and he died a regretful man.

Star Wars is part of the classic film canon, and the more I re-watch them, the happier I am that my boys are obsessive devotees. If you haven't already, consider letting your kids watch the series, at least the original three. And if you've not watched these recently, give them another whirl.

May the Force be with you! Today and always!