Ten years

This morning I had my photo taken (blech) in honor of my tenth year at my company. I can’t believe I’m still here; it just isn’t something I expected, since I had been averaging about 3 years with my previous employers. When I think about it, a lot has happened in this time:

• worked in 3 different positions
• became a manager for the first time
• experienced two healthy pregnancies and, thankfully, the births of two healthy babies
• left work for two maternity leaves — the first, which I was all too happy to come back from to reclaim my former self from a needy newborn; the second, which seemed much too short because I had gained a sense of how quickly a child grows up
• built a house with The Ex
• moved out of that house and bought one of my own
• went through a divorce
• experienced the promise of the kind of relationship I want and need
• changed my name back
• found my identity
• discovered what I want to be when I grow up
• wrote a novel
• wrote a lot of other stuff — and saw my first two essays published
• started a blog
• redesigned my blog – yes, it’s just about ready!
• got psyched about turning 40 this summer (yep, you heard me say it!)
• learned to value my friends and family more
• learned that the only person I need to please is me

I know a million other things have happened, but those are the ones that come to mind. One of my favorite quotes is:

Some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity…

~ Gilda Radner

I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to see what the next ten years bring.

Filed under the “Yeah, I don’t think so” category

Forget all that sappy stuff I wrote in my earlier post about Mother’s Day.

Holy mother of madness.

That’s all I can say about this one.

Pregnant for more than 11 of her 41 years? Does she just burp and they fall out? Would it have been so bad to pick a different letter for each of the kids’ names, rather than the same one? They’d make it through at least one round of the alphabet, maybe more at the rate they’re going.

Okay, each to his own, but the idea of more than 2 kids, no less 18 kids, in my house arguing about Pokemon cards and TV shows and homework and who’s going to take a shower first and so-and-so’s bothering me and when can I drive the car — AND trying to remember their freakin’ names — makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

I know they believe it is God’s will to keep having children, and that’s fine, but methinks God may be out running heavenly errands at Walgreens and has lost count Himself. Well, hey, best of luck to them. Hopefully she’ll at least get breakfast in bed tomorrow!

Defining Mom

In case you haven’t seen or heard the zillions of jewelry, flower, and card commercials, tomorrow is Mother’s Day. I love being a mom… but to be honest, Mother’s Day has traditionally been a bit bittersweet for me. In fact, my first Mother’s Day after my divorce was the hardest holiday to get through in my entire life — by far. (The second year wasn’t much better.) As SingleMomSeeking describes, I knew the day was about being a mom and being with my children, not about having a husband or partner. But logic and emotion don’t always play well together, you know? My kids were so young and the day was just like any other for them. My marriage was kaput. My family lived out of state. My friends were doing their own thing. I felt very much alone in my failings.

Since then I’ve gained more confidence in myself and my parenting abilities, although any parent will tell you that, just as you delude yourself into thinking you’ve mastered one stage, your child is on to the next! My kids are also old enough now to express their feelings to me. But maybe most importantly I’ve learned (and am still learning) to rely less on expectations, whether created by Hallmark or in my own mind, and to define being a mom in ways that make sense to me.

Mother is Community.

While I would love to get married again one day, I believe families come in all shapes and sizes. I know moms who are married and single, with biological children and with adopted children. One of my coworkers, a woman who I’m guessing is in her 30’s, has even opened her heart to become a foster mother — wow! Our key to survival — and being able to thrive — is to ask for and accept help, something I haven’t always been so good at.

You may hear that it takes a village to raise a child, but I’m here to tell you that it definitely takes a village (or two) to raise a mother.

Mother is Motion.

I used to think of “mother” as a noun, a name, but it really involves action. The dictionary defines Mother, the verb, as “to give birth to” and “to care for or protect.” I don’t think that does it justice; to me, it’s more like:

mother vb To care for, protect, laugh, cry, shout, yell, praise, swaddle, clean, scrub, smile, ignore, regret, feel guilt, worry, hear, smooch, roll eyes, launder [clothes-sheets-towels-toys-clothes-sheets-towels-toys...rinse-repeat-rinse, does it ever end?!], chuckle, discipline, grit teeth, give time outs, take time outs, cut [food-construction paper-fingernails-hair-clothing tags], cheer, gaze, feed, bathe, read [baby books-bedtime stories-homework-report cards-doctor's notes-'how to' this and 'how to' that-poems of love and loss, written for you and perhaps for others], wipe, wipe again, wipe some more, dress, enjoy, admire, snap at, take pride in, teach, raise, drive around, drive batty, observe, support, counsel, hug, kiss, shop for, pay for, defend, listen, save, nourish, love.

Mother is Gratitude.

I have it good as a mom, better than many. Being a parent has taught me about keeping things in perspective and being thankful. I have a wonderful family, including MY amazing mom, boss, coworkers, neighbors, an ex who is a loving and involved father, and a strong network of friends, both online and off.

Thank you. You all have made a difference in my life.

And, Drama Girl and T-Rex, you may exhaust me, and you may still not quite understand, but you are an endless source of inspiration. Now that we’ve met, I can’t imagine my life without you.

Have a great Mother’s Day, Mamas! Define the day as you like and, for God’s sake, get ye to the spa and take a break from all of that motion.

iPod irony

Like most days, I was listening to my iPod in the car on the way into work. (Through the car speakers, people, the speakers!) I was tired and a tad cranky from being up late working on a few projects, and then getting up early to do more work. Apparently the little computer chip in that sliver of silver picked up on my crabby/not-enough-coffee vibe because it started playing these in sequence:

• Blue on Black – Kenny Wayne Shepherd (Depressing, sure, but I love KWS and this is one of my all-time favorites.)

• Somewhere I Belong – Linkin Park (Sort of an accidental purchase for me — I bought the Meteora CD on impulse – pre-iPod – because I liked “Breaking the Habit.” I quickly realized that every other song involved a bunch of screaming, rapping stuff my 30-something suburban tendencies couldn’t take… but this angst-filled one grew on me.)

• China – Tori Amos (Yet another ditty about distant, broken relationships – because you can never have too many of those, right? Tori’s voice is beautiful and haunting, but she scares me a little. I’m just saying.)

• Damn Right, I’ve Got the Blues – Buddy Guy (The title kind of gives it away. I really like the blues, if for no other reason than the lyrics are usually easy to sing along to.)

• (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction - The Rolling Stones (If you’ve never heard this one, there is no hope for you. Sorry.)

When ABBA’s “SOS“* came on I started to laugh. I mean, how could I not? I wasn’t really in a “bad” mood when I started out, but oddly enough the songs put me in a darn good mood by the time I got to work. I guess that means both the iPod and I have a sense of humor.

*Yes, I have eclectic musical taste. And I have lots of happy songs on my iPod, too.

Puttin’ on the Ritz

I woke the kids up a little before 7 today. T-Rex pretended like he didn’t hear me and kept on sleeping. Drama Girl stirred a little, letting out an “Mmmm” from under her mop of hair. Not the kind of Mmmm that said, “Thanks, Mom! I’d love to get ready for school!” but a guttural “Get outta my face, lady, before I wipe that coffee-charged smile off your lips” like The Creature in Young Frankenstein.

For a half hour she refused to address me with anything but a growl. Then, right as we were leaving the house, she gave me a hug and began speaking in human again.

Yeah, I think the teenage years will be a piece of cake.