Mother. Hefty title, huh?
Like CEO, President or Queen.
From the instant I found out I was expecting my first child – the title mother filled me with awe and fear. You see, I have a mother – she is fantastic. And I thought, no way would I be able to live up to her example.
My mother raised four girls into independent, strong and smart women. And slightly over dramatic. But my mother set ground rules and expectations. And she showed us that family was the most important thing.
She slapped quotes on the refrigerator to remind us to reach higher. My favorite:
“Never let it rest until your good is better and your better is best.” (I assured her, this did not turn us into neurotic over-achievers. Well, maybe a little.)
She taught me how to read, iron my work blouses and make Christmas cookies.
She sat through every show choir concert and school play.
She didn’t make a face when I said I wanted to be a political philosophy major.
She and my dad drove an hour from home and sat at a dive bar to watch the first newscast I ever anchored.
She held my hand when I gave birth to my children.
She taught me how to soothe and help a baby sleep through the night.
She made me believe I could do anything.
So how can I be like this fabulous woman?
I can only take the gifts she’s given to me and hopefully be that same light for my three children. I’m trying – it’s really hard. I’m not perfect. But what I’ve learned becoming friends with my wonderful, loving mother is, neither was she. You can’t do it all. You can’t be it all. You can only do your best.
And guess what? My 2-year-old ate broccoli for dinner AND peed in the potty. ON THE SAME DAY.
Oh yes, I am mother.. hear me roar!
I love you, Mom.