Happy Mother's Day

I wrote this as part of a blog exchange, but I never posted it on my site. (it was posted on someone else's site) I figured it apropos given Mother's Day is this Sunday, and we were to use the topic "Mother May I" as the subject and interpret it as we saw fit.

Happy Mother's Day to all mothers out there, and moms to be!

I love you, Mom.


Mother May I

Some of the earliest memories of asking my mother's permission was in the form of "want, want, want" and "need,need, need" riding around in a cart at some obscure grocery or department store. Name or place doesn't matter, and I couldn't tell you specifics of either. What mattered is I had to have...had to have some immediate gratification through candy or toy.

"Mother May I?" said I.

"No," replied my mother. I am sure she had her rationale. A budget to stick to, an ideal to not spoil her children, or just trying to get her shopping done as any mother needs to do in this day and age.

"I hate you!" I screamed, in young child fashion.

"Well, I hate when you act like this," said my mother. Always careful to phrase her words to not harm, to not use the word 'you', to not let frustration make her repeat the same thing back.

Years pass, and teenage years bring me to a period in my life where my mother and I are both friends and enemies. One minute, she would listen to my problems and would share advice and laughter, and the next she had to endure my tempermental, moody hormonal side.

"Mother May I please have my curfew extended," I begged on more than one weekend in high school so I could spend more time out with my high school boyfriend.

But she always held firm. One night, I came in twenty minutes late, and my mother took away an opportunity of driving with a friend to visit a college campus a few hours away. It was something I was looking forward to immensely.

"You're not being fair!" I screamed. But she knew that limits were important.

As time passed, college turned into graduate school, and my relationship with my mother had evolved into something different. Gone was the the total responsibility of mothering when I lived with my parents and a new type a friendship existed between us, yet there still was a sense of protectiveness in which she guarded me, as I hadn't fully made it in the world yet.

One evening, I went out with a man that I worked with and was quite fond of and was involved in a date rape situation. The following week, I found out even more details at work that made me feel even more confused. Through poking around at work and asking some questions, I found out, this man was married with small children (even thought he told me he was single) and he had a reputation of sleeping around. He obviously was a very charming liar. I felt very embarassed, alone, and confused.

I called my mom who lived three hours away.

"Mother May I get some help from you?" I sobbed into the phone.

And my mom rushed to my side. She was there for me. She sat with me through a doctor's appointment. She sat with me through all the typical testing that they run to test for sexually transmitted diseases. I didn't know much about this man. She was there when all results came through as negative, and I cried with relief.

Where would I have been without my mother? Who would I be without my mother?

And more time has passed, and I now have my two children. They are young, and they are testing their limits. And so often I want to give in to their every whim and fancy. But I know being a parent, and being a mother, in particular, is about being strong. It is about standing up for your beliefs, and for what you know is right for your children, so that someday they can become strong people. My children will know what true parental love is because my mother demonstrated responsibility and extreme care with me....and as a result, that will be passed along to them through me.