To all mothers: Happiest Of Mother’s Days!

You have earned this day, so spend it how you want to: with your own sweet kids, a day off from your sweet kids and out with your best mom friends, with your own Mother.

Happy Mother’s Day to every Mom who has read my blog, and to those who have commented, Facebooked it or told someone else to check it out.  It means a great deal to me.

Thank you also for being a mom to your children.

Happy Mother’s Day to all my Mom friends and family.  You all know who you are,  how important you are to me, how much I admire you.  You have helped me become the mom I am.  You have watched my kids, listened to me complain and brag about my kids. Most recently, you have encouraged me to write and keep writing.  A huge hug and “thank you” to each and every one of you.

I am going to take the opportunity on this special day to recognize the three moms in my life that have had the most impact, taught me the most, been my biggest role models and cheerleaders.  There are many more than just these three, but these three have helped shape me into the mother I am more than anyone.  One has been a mother for 62 years, one 30 years, one 18 years.  I want to share what I have learned by watching them as it can help make any mom become a better mom.

My Own Mother
My mother had me (much to her dismay at the time I believe, drat that Pope) when she was 46.  I was the epitome of the oops baby, the caboose.  With my birth, my parents had one child in college, three teens (in the late 60s no less), a four year old and a new baby.  At 46.  Dealing with that with any sort of sanity gives her the Mommy Lifetime Award.

One word to describe my Mom is amazing.  She is 90, and lives alone as my father passed way 4 years ago, after 61 loving years of marriage.  She goes to the store, does her laundry, keeps her finances in order, watches hockey.  Up until one year ago, she was saying her rosary every morning while on the treadmill.

She always was and still is the classiest lady I know.  Never showing judgmental feelings, never yelling or God forbid, swearing.  She doesn’t load us down with unsolicited advice, doesn’t play the martyr, doesn’t complain.  She can talk politics (local and world) with the best of them, reads the latest books and has always been an incredible cook, teaching me not only how prepare delicious foods, but how to present them beautifully as well (I still have a hard time if my dinner is lacking the color and nutritional balance of a fresh green veggie).  She never criticizes my parenting, never tries to tell me how I could be doing things differently.  She never belittles anyone.

Go into her kitchen and on any given day you will find fresh parsley or basil sprigs in a tiny sherry glass of water. That is Mum.

From my mother I learned: the power of silence, and seeing each child in their own, unique light

When we were growing up, to show her displeasure with us, she had what my closest-in-age brother and I called “The Silent Treatment.” I feared The Silent Treatment, it carried more weight with me than any harsh words every could.  Her silence was louder than any screaming or yelling.

I knew she was incredibly mad, angrier than ever, but more than that, The Silent Treatment meant she was disappointed in me and my bad choice at the time.  Between the ages of 12-20, I gave her plenty to be angry about.

How I wish I always had the self-discipline to use The Silent Treatment.  I wish other parents did as well.  How many times have hurtful or sarcastic words flown out of our mouths, directly at our children? Only for us to wish we could retract them, suck them back up and have them never have been spoken or heard.

I try to be more like my mother in this way, to think before I yell (or not yell at all), to try to count in my head to ten before I say something I will regret.

My mother also has the uncanny ability to make all 18 of her grandchildren feel like her favorite.  I honestly can’t tell who, if any, are.  She is able to see each child for themselves.  She can teach my 14-year-old daughter how to make her famous potatoes,  then talk Red Wings players or the latest U of M scores with my son.  She knows which doll is my daughter’s favorite and has it placed out on Grandma’s bed, waiting at our every visit.  She is able to play a mean game of rummy with my  seven and ten year old, and then calls out to my five year old so he can see the Coast Guard or a freighter as it goes down the river she lives on.

When I see her with my siblings’ children, it is the same thing.  She sees each child as the amazing, unique grandchild they are.

Her actions have taught me the importance of this with my six. I don’t have six kids, I have six “only children.”

Happy Mothers Day Mum. I love you, and Thank you.

My Oldest Sister, Jane
My sister was 16 when I was born and she doted on me from day one.  She was the ever happy, fun, exciting-yet-calm sister who was a hippie (natural, earthy, hippie, not drugged out hippie) and incredibly cool as she played “Anticipation” on her guitar while she slept in a tent in the yard with my best friend and me when we were eight.
I was 13 when her first daughter was born, and I watched her become and be the most incredible mom from then until now, three more kids later.  From my sister I learned: responsibility, less is more, and being together as a family is top priority.

Every time I visited (which was often), her four kids would be doing things together.  A lot of times work, but somehow she and her husband made it seem fun. Sure, the kids would grumble as they helped dad chop and haul endless loads of logs from the woods. Complain as they had to weed their enormous garden.  Mope as they had to help clean the house every Saturday morning.  What did their hard work earn them?  No mega-toys, no bags of candy, no techy gadgets.

It earned them the right to become the most gracious, hard working, responsible fun adults I know.  They are the first to pitch in and help, the first to offer up a fun activity to my kids, the first ones to lend a hand.  Each and every one of them.  Don’t we want our kids to grow up to be like that?

There was little blaming at their house, no “it is everyone’s fault but mine.”  My sister taught that each child was in charge of their own behavior and that their problems or struggles are no else’s fault.

If only we all taught that now.  Kids now are so spoiled, so indulged, so put on pedastels that of course any wrong doing couldn’t be their fault. So entitled (see The Parent Trap, March 20).

Lastly, I learned from my sister the importance of fun as a family. They were (and still are today, when they are all home) forever playing football together, cross country skiing, biking, jogging, playing music, cards, cooking, hanging out.  Most times their friends would be part of it too, but it was the core family, together.  Really enjoying each other.

This has to be nurtured by us, the parents.  It isn’t going to happen automatically, without trying.  Some days our family members are the last people we want to see (I am sure my sister’s family had these days), but if we regularly spend time together, find activities we enjoy, and make it fun, our kids will learn the importance of being with and appreciating each other.

When I would visit when the kids were ‘tweens and teens, a friend would call and my niece or nephew would say (not begrudgingly either) “Oh, I can’t go tonight, my aunt is visiting.” When was the last time your older kids chose to cancel their ever so important plans with friends… for family?

Happy Mothers Day Jane.  I love you, and Thank You.

My Best, “Since We Were Tots” Friend, Angie

Angie and I met at the ripe old age of four.  We were neighbors shortly after that.  We grew up together, inseparable.  She knew (and knows) every single thing about me, we share so many memories, so many inside jokes.   I can’t imagine growing up with a better best friend.

Angie had her first and only son three years before I had my first baby.  She was one of my first friends to become a mom.  I watched her every move, took mental notes.  I would see other friends do parenting things and I would file away in my head “I sure don’t want to do it like that!”  With Angie, I stored away everything she did in the “I want to do that ” section.

From Angie I learned: the importance of play, raising children with a firm, consistent but loving hand, and setting the bar high.

Robert was a really bright kid from the beginning.  Angie fostered this in fun ways.  It was obvious he was extremely smart from early on, so did she enroll him in every available class for bright two year olds?  Did she pack his schedule with “enrichment” lessons?  Did she whip out flash cards, start teaching Spanish, German and French at three? Absolutely not.  What she did do was play.

By two, Robert could beat the pants off me at Memory.

I was really trying to win.

Their days revolved around getting things done, everyday life and errands, but more so, games.  Board games, outside play games, sports games.  Any day could find Angie, pitching a ball 869 times, or being in net so Robert could perfect his slap shot.  They played.  And played.  Sandbox, chalk, mud, more board games, sport scores… they had fun (see the Parent Trap, Battle Hymn of the Anti-Tiger Mother, March 27) .

Did all that play, lack of enrichment classes, stunt Robert’s cognitive skills?  Quite the contrary.  He was chosen as one of two students from his school district to attend college for 1/2 of his high school day (starting in his sophomore year of high school), taking college math and science classes for the remainder of his high school years.  Paid for, and  they threw in his books and a laptop. He will be able to transfer into college as a second semester sophomore when he finishes high school this June.  That’s what you get for playing.  Pay heed parents.

As a mom, Angie has never allowed her son to be rude, never allowed him to not respond to people, or to not be polite.  She never allowed him to act like the inconsiderate dolt many parents do, never let manners go unheeded, siting “teenage boy behavior”.  Would he rather mumble, not be a social butterfly with adults?  Probably, but she always insists on polite, appropriate social skills.  She never settles for second best behavior, or shrug things off out of laziness or “boys will be boys”.  She has set the bar high, and expects her son to meet or exceed it. If we expect the best from our kids and support those expectations, they most often meet the challenge.  When they don’t meet or exceed?  If the bar is set high, even skating under it is still more than acceptable.

Happy Mothers Day Angie.  I love you, and Thank You.

How am I spending today? Visiting my mom with my husband and six kids. Spending the day with my mother and the six amazing people who made me a mother.

I might just get that new coffee mug I’ve been hinting about, too.