A has been spending most of the summer at my mom's place. She has Trumpets in the afternoons, so we all thought it would be best for her to stay over my folks' so their driver can take her to class. It's not that it's a bad idea. I actually welcome the opportunity, for her. But maybe it makes her see the contrast of lifestyles, and she has noted the differences out loud, more than once or twice. Not that it matters, but this evening, she once again expressed disgust over how full the car was (she has complained more than once about how it irritates her to have a lot of things in the car and house - I sell toys, etc to make extra money). I came from a meeting with the BentoMommas, and had to lug stock back to our warehouse as i handle dispatching of orders for the group. So the back seat was brimming with this and that, and she didn't have space for her overnighter.
I don't know. Maybe it's just me, or maybe it's because I was tired (drove through a total of four hours of traffic today), but I took offense right away. I don't know if she thinks I chose my circumstances, but it hurts me to think that she, of all people, do not understand. I know I am not a perfect mom, nor am I the perfect parent. But I try my best, given the circumstances. And it pains me that she overlooks all my hard work.
Okay, so maybe I am having entitlement issues. I know I am wrong to think this way. I just wish that sometimes, the kids don't take my efforts forgranted. I wish they'd think through our circumstances and know I am trying my darn best to make life easier for them - to make things work.
There is nothing I would like more in this world than to give my kids the life I know they deserve. And I've given up so much just so they can have some semblance of what my life was like before I got married. It does not matter to me that I cannot have the things I used to have. It doesn't matter if i don't get to buy that nice, expensive bag; or that I've had to forego buying myself jewelry or taking a vacation just because I have to make tuition payments, or if I have to save up for something for them. I know of mothers who give up so much more, just for their kids. And it's not like I am forced to choose. I willingly choose to put them first, without much thought. It is automatic - and it is the same for most mothers. So yes, woe is me for getting on the pity party bus. (Must be hormones. Bah!)
Why does one have to give up something just so another can have it better anyway? Sacrifice must be inherent in mothers. It must have been programmed in their hearts from the very beginning. They give up space in their bodies (and eventually that sexy figure) to house a child for 9 whole months. They give up many a good night's (or day's) sleep. They give up work and their time just to make sure their kids have it better. Sometimes, they even give up their own happiness. Ah yes, sacrifice. I know it all too well.
I have a good friend who, after an ugly divorce, gave up being with her kids just so they can continue living the good life with their dad. An ex-officemate sacrifices her time, money - up to the very last cent, just so her only daughter isn't ridiculed in school for being poor. I know of moms who don't even get to eat a decent meal, just so their kids get their day's fill of food. Or the moms who choose to work away from her kids in order for her to earn enough to send them to good schools, and give them a bright future. Or the young mom who gives up her child to her parents or to another couple knowing they can provide better for her little one. Hard choices. And yet the bottomline remains the same - we do it for our children, the very ones that define us as moms.
And yet, here I am, sitting on my bed, hours before dawn on Mother's Day, thinking through these thoughts. I grumble and think I deserve at least an ounce of appreciation for all these sacrifices. And yet, I know, I don't quite deserve it because it was my choice to sacrifice for my kids' benefit anyway. I did so without expecting anything in return, and yet, why does it hurt me when they don't recognize it, or when they do not seem to appreciate all that I've done?
Mothers only have good dreams for their children. When A was a baby, I'd sit by her bedside and dream of how she'd turn out to be. I think about how my own mom probably imagined the same when I was a baby. The thought that I gave her much disappointment just wrings my heart dry. There is a particular photo in one of those albums at home that is etched on my mind. On it, my mom cuddles me to her face. At that particular moment, she is probably dreaming up the world for me - her firstborn. It tears me up every time I think about it. I have similar photos of my kids in my head, and it just scares me that one day, I'll be heaving heavy sighs every time those photos come to mind. I now know how hard it is to parent a child!
I am grateful that my mom loves me in spite of the many heartaches I gave her. It can be difficult to choose empathy over anger, especially when we've been wronged by people we care the most about. And I've failed this many, many times. Case in point: last night's episode in the car. I know I was wrong. If I feel unappreciated, then maybe I failed somewhere. Maybe A doesn't really know, maybe she doesn't quite understand our situation. It was all me and my self-pity. Bah! Can't I just protect my kids from all this?!
I get it now. Motherhood is not meant for wimps. It is one of the hardest, if not the toughest, jobs in the world. I'll say it again, I am not the perfect mother - I am far from perfect. But God must have thought me worthy to be one. I can only pray I do this job well. Regardless if I feel unappreciated sometimes.
