on Mother's Day

It is not at all unusual to hear me talking about how motherhood sucks.  I don't think it sucks for me any worse than any other mother, but motherhood hit me at a time when Mom's were constantly parading their happiness and perfect little kids about, and like most other choices I've made, I took the road less travelled (the one where Mom's were being honest about things like painful breastfeeding, sleep deprivation, a loss of identity, television addiction and Postpartum Depression).

But today, because I slept late, woke up to the smell of bacon and a beautiful daughter yelling "happy mother's day!", I'd like to write about the other sides of motherhood.  I must admit, I'm honestly at a loss for words when it comes to the joy.  Not because I don't experience it, but because I'm obviously more articulate with bitching than appreciation.  But I'm going to give it a go anyhow.

First, I need to take a second to thank God (and Chris' sperm) for giving me a girl.  I have no idea what I would have done with a boy.  The honor of raising a strong, thoughtful and responsible young woman is not at all lost on me.  I look forward to everything that has to offer (the joys AND the frustrations).  But for now, she's just our little Izzy.  Our little Izzy who loves ants and spiders and doodle bugs.  Who loves going bye-bye, eating M&M's for dinner (when Dad isn't around, of course) and having a grown man named Eric as a best friend.  Our Iz, who loves singing, dancing and playing with PuppetShow (her name for a Sonic the Hedgehog stuffed animal).  God graced me with the most beautiful, funny and feisty kid possible, because He obviously knew this motherhood thing was going to be tougher than I imagined.  

Motherhood is pure joy.  Don't get me wrong, it's also pure frustration, pure insanity and pure heartbreak.  But first and foremost, it's joy.  It's a joy that is not easily explained by a cynical amateur writer, because it is so overwhelming and heartfilling.

I used to laugh at my own Mom because she was a "crier".  Sad movies, news reports, articles of heartbreak would send my Mom down the river of tears.  I'd constantly tell her to "toughen up, that's the way the world is."  But since giving birth, I am now a "crier" as well.  Grey's Anatomy kills me every f'n week.  I recently realized why that is.  Motherhood opens you up.  It opens your heart in a way that is unexplainable to others.  You cannot be a good mother and keep your guard.  You have to feel.  You have to be empathetic and sympathetic.  It's essential to motherhood.  And it's hard to turn that off at the end of the day, so you end up crying at reports of other hurt children, dying parents, loves lost or whatever else Shonda Rhimes might throw at you for the week.  And while crying absolutely drives me nuts, I'm starting to accept that it's a side-effect of good mothering.  It represents an open heart.

I recently read an article on why mother's deserve a day.  And it's true, we deserve breakfast in bed, clean houses, cards and flowers.  But the truth is, if you are practicing conscious mothering, the payoff is there every single day.  The joy of watching your child see their first doodle bug, discover how "very, very pretty" night is, or feeling things in a way you've never felt them before.  Motherhood has the power to transform you into a better woman.  Stronger, smarter and more capable of love than anything else in this world.