What can a Mother do?

This year has taken a turn no one saw coming and yet, we’re here. Stay at home orders. Mandatory mask wearing. Lining up six feet apart just to go to Trader Joe’s. I find it all frustrating and exhausting. And I worry. A lot. 

Having my children and grandchildren huddling under this cloud of virus fear, makes me worry even more. Are they healthy? Thank goodness, yes. Are they safe? Maybe. 

When they were little, I could always tell when they were sick before anyone else. They smelled funny or looked different. Or I just knew something was off. My husband didn’t usually get it but he learned time after time, I was right. So he trusted Dr. Mom. 

Now, Dr. Mom is also Dr. Gram. 

I have more sweeties to love and cherish and keep healthy. I love that. I am so grateful I get to do ‘daycare’ for my granddaughter every week. I do FaceTime chats and watch sweet videos of my new grandson in LA. He is getting so big and strong. He’s got teeth. He sits up. He’s even starting to talk. 

But neither Dr. Mom nor Dr. Gram can kiss and make this virus situation go away. 

Where have all hugs and smiles gone?

I miss hugging my daughter and son and son-in-law and granddaughter and grandson. I miss the smiles from the people in my neighborhood, fellow walkers and even my Trader Joe’s. 

I will not miss this situation we are in right now. I will not miss the paranoia that has everyone spinning out of control and the finger pointing of face mask wearers vs non mask wearers. 

It all somehow reminds me of the Dr. Seuss book, ‘The Sneetches’. It was combined in 1961 into a book with other stories. While it may not be one of his most famous books, it has a deep message. 

Here’s a synopsis from Wikipedia:

The story tells of a group of yellow bird-like creatures called the Sneetches, some of whom have a green star on their bellies. At the beginning of the story, Sneetches with stars discriminate against and shun those without. An entrepreneur named Sylvester McMonkey McBean (calling himself the Fix-It-Up Chappie) appears and offers the Sneetches without stars the chance to get them with his Star-On machine, for three dollars. The treatment is instantly popular, but this upsets the original star-bellied Sneetches, as they are in danger of losing their special status. McBean then tells them about his Star-Off machine, costing ten dollars, and the Sneetches who originally had stars happily pay the money to have them removed in order to remain special. However, McBean does not share the prejudices of the Sneetches and allows the recently starred Sneetches through this machine as well. Ultimately this escalates, with the Sneetches running from one machine to the next...”until neither the Plain nor the Star-Bellies knew whether this one was that one ...or that one was this one...or which one was what one...or what one was who."

This continues until the Sneetches are penniless and McBean departs as a rich man, amused by their folly. Despite his assertion that "you can't teach a Sneetch", the Sneetches learn from this experience that neither plain-belly nor star-belly Sneetches are superior, and they are able to get along and become friends. "The Sneetches" was intended by Seuss as a satire discrimination between races and cultures. 

Dear Dr. Seuss, tell me what can I do?

When we are all pointing, you!

NO it’s You! 

I know we all want to be safe now. So can we learn from with wisdom of Dr. Seuss? And find our own way - masked or unmasked -  to get along.

On Mothering.

I always wanted to be a mom. And I was determined to be a good mom. And I’ll admit, one of the reasons I wanted to become a mom was to be a different kind of mom than the ones I observed as a child and a childcare worker. 

I could go into the pain I observed but we all know it’s out there. Media and magazines shine a light on the difficulties and tragedies. While knowledge and awareness is needed, I worry that surrounding ourselves with all of this may bring us even more pain. And we don’t need more pain in this world. 

We need more love and caring and sharing. 

Mothering and fathering is a lifelong commitment. It’s not easy. You need a strong heart and an even stronger sense of self to be selfless in the moments and years to come. Crying babies grow and their bumps and bruises grow as well. It’s impossible to keep them from every fall and cold and social bruise, though I’ve tried very hard. 

But most important is love. Loving them no matter what, even when you’re upset too. Seeing through the developmental hurdles, tantrums, tears, and rebellion to the heart that needs support. Caring by listening to the words of pain and offering presence, arms to hold them and a soft place to land. Sharing your own failures and stories, if needed, to let them know they are not alone in this difficult world. 

We all need to know failure happens. 

This is hard for me to say, not only for myself, but for my children as well. I want them to be happy, healthy and successful. Whether you deny that reality as I have for so many years or you are wise enough to embrace it. Everyone, even best of us, fall and fail and struggle. 

As a mother, I think that has always been my greatest fear. 

Life has handed me many bumps and bruises along the way to teach me not just to avoid pain, but to grow up and out of it. Some of my more epic failures have become my biggest accomplishments later in life. Yes, I’ve lost jobs and relationships and money and health. 

But I’ve also found new work and love. I’ve figured out that somehow I always have enough. And building health and strength is a life long practice best done with love. 

Near or far. Up or down. The best I can do as a mother is love.