Mixed Up Mother's club

Mother's, like the individuals they are, vary wildly.  We have the storybook Mom's, the one every kid longs for but few have.  We have the evil step-mother in the storybooks, as well.  A terrible set-up for so many of us who are living in blended families!  I used to sign my notes and cards Love, Your StepMonster and it would make Ryan and Amanda giggle.  It never stuck, though.  They call me Mama. 

And then we have real-life Mom's:

My mother wasn't overly maternal.  When my own mothering days began, I found myself looking back with a bit of horror at her lack of maternal instincts.  I wondered how I had ever managed to survive.  I, on the other hand, was the freakily over-protective Mom and, hindsight being 20/20, realize that probably wasn't the best approach either.  Middle-of-the-road would have sufficed and probably have been a better choice, both for my own sanity and that of my coddled children.  I probably instilled too many of my own fears onto and into them.  I don't kick myself too hard though.  I did the best I could.  My parenting came from a place of love.  My main goal was to make sure that they knew I loved them every single day of their lives.  I used to think my Mom hated me.  I never wanted that for my boys.  I believe that I succeeded in achieving that goal, regardless of other mistakes. All I really know is that my three sons, Derek, Zachary & Jesse, are the biggest joys of my life and that I cannot imagine having lived a full life without them. 


My own relationship with my Mother has grown into a friendship over the last five or six years.  It has been very healing for me to realize that she does love me and that she always did.  I don't know why we misunderstood one another for so long.  She thought I didn't love her and I thought she didn't love me.  It took me forever to ground into her that I adore her, that I would lay down and die for her.  She believes me now.  I had to come to accept her way of loving me a little more on my own.  She said to me once, "You always say I hated you."  I answered, "Well, you did, didn't you?"  Her reply, "Oh for God's sakes, who had time to love you."  Well, that hurt.  But knowing my Mom and knowing who she is, I had to read between the lines after I let the hurt go.  She was telling me that she did love me, she was just so crazed that she didn't take the "time" to show it.  I know this in my heart.  When she had a health scare last year she wanted to use a credit card to take my big brother and I to New York to my little brother's house so we could all be together and have an incredible vacation together, all three of her children together again with her at last.  The health scare passed and the fear of running up credit debt returned her to being "sensible" so we didn't do it.  I think we should do it soon, without a health crisis, and need to talk to my brother's about it.  (funny how writing brings out good ideas that should have been there before).  I love my Mom.

Then there is Brad's Mom, my mother-in-law, Janet.  This woman is a peach.  She's so fricking amazing.  She is the mother in those story books, except she doesn't like to cook.   I love her silly.  And she loves me.  Forget all about those horrific mother-in-law stories! (unless you have your own, of course.  I realize I lucked out.)

And now I have these two young charges, Amanda and Ryan, who haven't had an overnight visit with their Mom in over a year.  The last time they spent the day with her was on Mother's Day of last year.  I cannot fathom how she is managing to go on without them.  I'm half afraid that she'll show up on our doorstep this morning because she does have the right to take them for the day on Mother's Day.  (pray she doesn't, they'll freak out) They say that I am their Mother and that they hate her but I know that the hate is really hurt, fear.  What will be going through their young minds today?  Well, as always, all I can do is love them and reassure them that I will never, ever leave them.  That they are precious and that they are lovable.  That the problem is with their Mom and not with them.