I just looked back at my last post and saw that it had been seven months since I wrote last. And that, my friends, is why there is a day especially for the tired, the loving, the over-scheduled...the mothers.
Ms. Pea is now nine months and 3weeks old or 42 weeks and some odd days - she been around as long as she was a little mini-monkey hanging upside down in Mama's love den, punching every-so-often just so I knew she was there. And it's been a long haul. I still have issues to work on with my mother but I've become so much more compassionate and RESPECTFUL of my mother which has made me appreciate ALL mothers. And what a perfect day to actually put it to pen.
To all the Mothers who endlessly hummed, bounced and shhshed through colic, who nursed 'til they thought their breasts might just as well be filled with silicon as they'd become nothing more than milky pacifiers, and who spent hours shopping and peeling and steaming and pureeing up delicious concoctions only to be met with a closed mouth or a new interest in spitting out...Happy Mother's Day. To the women who learned to nurse while sleeping, standing, walking, slinging, and cases of mastitis -- and all those who just couldn't nurse...Happy Mother's Day. To all the Mothers who've cursed out SUVs running stop signs while mid-crosswalk with a stroller, who carried children on hips with bags of groceries in hand while no one held the door, who haven't had a night without a wake up in too many years to count...Happy Mother's Day. And to all those mothers who are years ahead of me or in different world of parenting, you who parent without partners, who have teenagers sneaking out at night, who have children who learn differently, or children who want to learn but live in circumstances and surroundings that make learning challenging, or, god forbid, who are ill...Happy Mother's Day.
Ms. Pea was a challenge today. She was up all night and early morning and her first nap ended before the hour had finished. She screamed all the way home from brunch and then refused her afternoon nap. Tired and frustrated after trying to get her to sleep, I finally laid her down in her crib and closed the door. After 4 minutes of crying, she started talking - and then laughing. My love, my star, my sun around whom I orbit, began to babble and giggle and squeak and scold Doggie, DouDou, Cookie and Froggy for 45 minutes while I sat on the couch with her Daddy slowly relaxing and breathing again. This Mother's Day sucked, there's no denying it. But I am a Mother now to the fabulous, terrible, complex and beautiful Ms. Pea. Despite her spirit, because of her spirit, she is by far my most praiseworthy poem, my most perfect print, my most interesting story.
So to Ms. Pea and Daddy G. - thank you for hiring me for the most difficult and most satisfying job around. I love you.
