Monday, May 12, 2014

Praise for Mothers

Many years ago, before I became enlightened, I had an attitude toward mothers. Now don't get me wrong. I loved the idea of motherhood. I loved my dear departed mother. I was grateful to her for standing by me during my active disease, prison terms, and the rest of the mess.

But I still had an attitude. The attitude was this: I couldn't understand why some mothers lamented about how difficult it is to raise children. What was the big deal about feeding them, bathing them, and sending them off to school? Piece of cake. But eventually I understood. And on a deep level.

It happened like this. When my youngest daughter was less than five years old I had custody of her every other week until she became school-age. When it came time for her to go to school I decided I wanted her full-time. So after an 18 month battle the court awarded me full custody. So, here I was, a single parent working in the corporate world. And a full-time father to a first grader.

When I had her full-time I developed a proper regard for mothers and what they do.

For one thing I had the idea that when you told kids to do something they did it. Wrong. For example, I would expect her to sleep in her bed, rather than on the couch in front of the TV. After a few frustrating months of failed negotiations, a friend with children asked me what difference does it make where she falls asleep? And really it didn't.

It used to be a mad rush in the morning getting her ready for school. I'd braid her hair, fix her breakfast, and get her clothing ready. One day a brilliant mother gave me an idea. First she said I wasn't too smart or something like that. Then she asked why I didn't bathe my daughter and get her clothing ready the night before? I tried it. And sure enough, it worked. The early morning stress went away.  Hmm...

Another concern was how little she ate. Instead of eating, she'd play with a color book. Or trot My Little Pony across the table while her food got cold. One day, in frustration, I threw My Little Pony across the room, breaking off one of its legs. And, I never heard the end of it.  For what seemed like years, when she got angry at me, she would holler "and you broke my Little pony!"  And, in spite of my frustration she never starved or developed malnutrition.

So mothers, today I understand exactly what you do. And I appreciate it. My 10 years as a single parent left me chastised. With the advice of several mothers I raised a daughter who today is a successful human being.

Thank you.