while for the majority of my life to date i was not a mother, this role is such an intrinsic part of who i am that it feels like i have always been one. and in some sense i think i have… i read that all the eggs a woman has are present at birth, just waiting for their moment. so it’s really just this ongoing, overlapping ribbon of motherhood tying us all together, generation after generation. and that feels right. i am definitely still mothered by my own mama who encourages and supports and worries over me, even though technically i have been an adult for almost forty years. i also feel mothered and protected by my grandmothers, long gone, as their advice and examples reside in my consciousness. as hilary says, “it takes a village!” it’s too much for one woman to bear the sole responsibility for the safety and development of human beings. we need the grannies and aunties and fairy godmothers and best friends to bolster our mothering.
(my GG loving on her great grandchildren… they were so lucky to know her!)
the kind of mothering you do changes, of course. for the first few years, i was just trying to keep my children ALIVE: desperately hoping to prevent them from being stolen or poisoned or drowned or suffocated. i was on hyper alert (except when i wasn’t and i just crashed out!) i constantly ran scenarios through my head: if theo falls in the canal do i jump straight in or take off my coat first so i am more agile? if lucy chokes on a meatball (her favorite childhood food) do i put my finger down her throat or try the heimlich? the minute i didn’t have eyes on them at the park i imagined myself at the press conference crying and begging the public to help me find them. it was pretty exhausting.
(the canals of amsterdam were beautiful, but i was always worried theo would accidentally fall in!)
(the seatbelt wasn’t enough for me… i sat behind lucy on the carousel horse)
and there were also the softer moments… long cuddles over bedtime stories or snuggled up on the sofa for a movie, baking chocolate chip cookies or gingerbread houses or banana bread, making valentines or paintings or halloween costumes together. those are the times that allowed me to relax and restore and just revel in my babies.
(theo van gogh!)
(lucy pollock)
(a sweetie moment wtih my own mama)
now that my children are pretty big (one is SIXTEEN and the other is TWENTY) both the worries and softer moments have changed. now i get concerned about their feelings and relationships and mental well being. i hope that they are balanced and resilient and confident and good advocates for themselves. in many ways these worries are much scarier than the physical ones of their earliest years. i cannot just squeeze a heartbreak out of them the way i could a stuck meatball. i can’t scoop them out of a difficult situation like i could a canal or a swmming pool. now my mothering consists more of encouraging them to use the tools i (and all their other mothers) have taught them over the years. sometimes they do and sometimes they really don’t. and sometimes they create their own tool and solve their problems in a way that i would never have thought of. regardless, it is still exhausting. and also so rewarding. i am so grateful for these children who have given me so much JOY (and terror!) and for my own mother and those extra mamas in my life and the lives of my children. we are all tied together with one long, beautiful ribbon. HAPPY, HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY! x0x0xx
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