Mother’s Day is coming up this week and, while this is not a holiday I get super excited about, it is one that means a lot to me.
I’ve been a mother now for nearly half of my life.
I got pregnant with Dude 1 at 22 and from the moment I discovered that I was growing a human inside of my person, I’ve felt like a mother.
And now, it is who I am.
Sure, I am other things too, but I will be the very first to tell you that mother is by far my coolest, must fulfilling title.
Probably I’m just not that cool, but I’d also argue that it’s because they are.
My Dudes are legit some of the most awesome humans I have had the pleasure of knowing and I’m not just saying that because I made them –in fact, most of the time I feel like I can’t even take credit for their awesome.
They’re way more introspective, empathetic, ingenious, athletic, personable, charming, fun, and cool than I have probably ever been.
Alllll moms say stuff like this about their kids.
But, the important thing to remember here is…
Which means I’m an excellent judge of coolness.
One of the many things I want my Dudes to know.
10 Things I Want My Kids to Know About Being Their Mom on Mother’s Day
I don’t have a favorite.
You are all my favorites! You’re all precious to me and special to me in different ways for different reasons.
I only hold your little brother’s hand all the time and cuddle him up because he lets me! I’m totally down to hold your hand at the mall next weekend when we go to buy you new basketball shoes if you are.
I’m not always right.
But I’m usually not wrong.
I don’t enjoy disciplining you.
But, I do enjoy teaching you lessons. Like that one time, you didn’t pick up your shoes after I had told you like 2,456 times to PICK UP YOUR SHOES and then I threw them away like I told you 2,457 times I was going to. And then you had to wear your “yard work” shoes to school for a week until I fessed up about not actually throwing them away.
That was good.
Adulting is not as awesome as you think it is.
And, there is way more to it than just staying up as late as you want and getting to make your kids do chores for you. Real talk, I’d much rather go to bed at 8:30 like you do and, 9 times out of 10, I have to do your chores over after you finish them anyway because you are kind of sorry at doing your chores.
On the bright side, being an adult who is also a mom is probably 1000% more awesome than I make it look.
As a mom I feel like you just see me hurrying and hollering and sweating and worrying, and I know I look a hot mess while I am doing it. But, I seriously love being a mom even on the days when I look like I’m losing my mind.
And, honestly, like 99% of my best moments involve you.
And/or your siblings. And/or chocolate. And/or naps. And/or this one time, in Mexico… But, mostly you.
You inspire me.
I’ve heard that is supposed to work the other way around –like I’m supposed to be the one inspiring you. But I swear, if it weren’t for you dudes, I’d be some couch surfing English teacher walking around Europe with nothing in my bank account but the savings bonds my parents put in there when I was 18.
You inspire me to be ambitious and courageous, outspoken and brave, empathetic and forgiving.
I want to achieve things so that you can see they’re possible, so that you can know what a strong, hardworking, determined woman looks like, so that you can know what you’re worth.
I’ve grown the nerve to stand up for myself and what I believe in so that you can know it’s your right to do so, so that you can see what’s worth standing up for, so that you can learn to stand up for yourself.
And, you inspire me to have empathy and show it, so that you can know what it looks like and feels like, so that you can see how it changes the world, so that you can see how it changes you.
I used to be a teenager.
I know, it was in the middle ages before cell phones and Snapchat and stuff. And like, people used to have to call your house to talk to you, so it was totally different and super lame. But, I appreciate that about your life. And I get it. And, when I don’t totally get it, I work really hard at trying to understand.
I love watching you grow up.
I hate it a little too. Okay fine. I hate a lot. But, I’m super excited to see the you that you will be when you’re 18 and 21 and 25 and a full time employee paying for your own lights and food because I bet you won’t leave them on all the time then or complain about having to eat leftovers every Thursday. And seeing that will be very cool.
I’m here for the hard stuff.
I’m not just here for the easy stuff, I can do the hard stuff too, and the awkward stuff, and the private stuff, the stuff you don’t want to tell your mom because she’s a mom and she makes things weird. I can stomach it if you can and probably even if you can’t. And I want you to come to me before you go to anyone else. Unless anyone else is Daddy, because he’s gonna tell me about it after you go to bed anyway.
I love you, no matter what.
Even when you’re little teenager attitude is trying to flex on me in the kitchen, I still love you. Even when you get in my car with your friends after a party and try to act like I’m not the coolest 30-something year old person you’ve ever met in life, I still love you. Even when you throw up in the hallway of our brand new house at 2am, ensuring that the carpet will smell like your insides for the rest of forever, I still love you. And, when I am all crustified in my coffin at the bottom of some cemetery you probably don’t get time to visit, I will still love you.