Going back to a Mothers’ Day post from 2013. Words were flowing, angst had taken a holiday.
4am reflections on my life as a mother…
This year, he’s taller than I am and has bigger feet.
In many ways, he’s smarter than I am (with conceptual stuff, 3-D, solving Rubix Cubes, Origami master).
His piano playing if full of joy, and spontaneity. He can pick anything out by ear, my most recent favorite was the Downton Abbey theme song.
We both love math and science.
We both enjoy Simon Pegg tremendously. (Although I might be convinced to leave Shane Blitch for Simon, and I know Harrison would never.)
He consistently whips my arse in Rummy… I’ll claim some pride for this disgrace, since apparently I taught him well.
For, him, I am required to function daily in areas that are well beyond the limits of my comfort zone.
I lament the fact that he so rarely gets to see his extended family. I know I’m not a priority for my family, but it pains me that by extension, this is a lost connection for him.
He’s had some tough lessons at an early age. Bad enough for a child to have one parent immobile so often, but to have 2 parents with ongoing medical issues… that’s no party.
I’m sad that we haven’t been able to travel with him. But then I’m comforted by seeing him in the yard with his chickens, or walking his 90 lb labrador around the hood.
We Live-Large in this wee house. 2 huge men, and one little, shrinking mama.
I’m fortunate… that he begs me to play cards with him. That he loves coming with me to play Maj Jong on Monday evenings.
That we can go camp together, just us 2, and he’ll insist on setting up the tent site by himself.
I’m loving that he’s old enough to share some of my favorite movies with, at last.
Wondering if it’s close to time to introduce Scully and Mulder yet.
He comes with me when I do scary things, i.e. public speaking for the Crohn’s & Colitis Foundation. He’s my pep~squad.
I recognize so much of myself in this other person. But there’s also this outgoing, friendly, cheerful happy-go-lucky element that is foreign to me. That’s the Shane Blitch DNA influence. So, lucky kid. No one wants to be too much Applegate.
So for each sadness or disappointment or frustration, my mothering and self-presevation strategy is to balance it all with being present, speaking my mind and my heart, and offering gratitude. So much sincere gratitude for being given the chance to spend time on this planet with this boy named Harrison.
Thoughts on mothering are never complete for me with out some Anne Lamott.
““Forgiveness is giving up all hope of having had a better past.”
I hope I can teach Harrison about compassion, and forgiveness, by experiencing those things for myself.