It started some time before mother’s day. I wasn’t feeling you know all mothery. Maybe I was kind of feeling like I had fallen short of the mommy image. You know the one. I was feeling like a bad mother, I work all the time, I’m not the right age, I get frustrated and angry and impatient.
I was mad at myself for being human I guess. Until I spoke to a kindred spirit, she was going through the same self inflicted emotional torment. She was feeling like a heal for her lack of …I don’t even know what to call it…..maternal skill?
We talked about the old days, when we were circling the sphincter of poverty with our children, we talked about the highs and lows of those times. We spoke about the frustrations and the way circumstance has played such a huge role in the way our families have been forged.
We talked about the fathers, and the parents and the people who have influenced us for the good and the bad. We spoke about the good and the bad, those things you only see in hind sight, those decisions that rip our hearts out even years later, and those choices we made despite knowing the shame and stigma that would come, the choices we would make again and again.
We smiled and cried a little about those good times, those awesome triumphs, you only know if you have been there.
We finished by talking about Mother’s day, and how it made us feel kinda less than, because we didn’t think we deserved the praise, we weren’t perfect mothers, we might not even be good ones, we just do what is natural, what we signed on for when we became mothers, and sometimes we even get something right.
We came to the decision that Mother’s like us, were not the heroes of legend, the all powerful Super-Woman-Pure-Pias-Perfect of lore. We are more the ones thrust into situations, forced into corners, the underdogs who decided that we will survive and maybe a little bit more. we curse occasionally and occasionally get tipsy, we raise the occasional eyebrow. We strive to be comfortable and envy no one their super powers. Our means may not always be as perfect as those of the “better endowed” to it, and lord knows we make mistakes, but we make it.
We are the anti heroes of motherhood. So these are the stories, of the not sweet as candy mommies, and the issues that we think affect us.