Mother's Day Guilt

I think there’s a reason why I finally developed those videos sitting in a dusty box labeled “To Do” in my linen closet. I think there’s a reason Parker asked where the videos were, of him as a baby. I believe greater forces are pulling us in directions in which we are unaware. I know my mom and grandmother are directing my life from somewhere above the clouds… directing events to occur at just the right time. I clicked the envelope on the screen from the online memory company, which developed my memories. They say you can never go back, so enjoy the times while you live them. Bullshit, I pressed the cursor and immediately was sitting in a living room at 29 years old, in a home somewhere in Plano, Texas, surrounded by the theme of motherhood. They say when people die they get a birds eye view of their body from above and can watch their loved ones surrounding them in their final moments. I felt the bird’s eye view as I inspected every inch of my surroundings in the video on the screen. What was I wearing? What are the kids doing? How did I decorate? Was the house clean? Who was I? What was I thinking? Was I overwhelmed or tired? Was dinner on the stove? I spent hours watching my life. I spent hours watching what I forgot for the last 20 years. Did the girl on the screen know the adventure she was about to embark on? Was she even worried about that at all? I have read many ‘Letters To Self’ that people create in their blogs. I have read stories from older women and what they would tell their younger self if they could. I was overwhelmed with thoughts as I watched our long lost home videos. I wanted to tell the young mom in the video so many things that she had no idea were occurring or going to occur at the time of filming. Was my younger self just being a new mom and focused on the present or was she too tired to think past each day? I can only imagine how I felt when I hear myself say on the video to the kids, “Grandma left today” following her helping me with my new baby. There I was on a couch somewhere in Plano, Texas with a 4 year old, a one year old, and a three-day-old baby.  Now what? I watch with anxiety but I didn’t appear anxious at the time. I watch with worry although there was no worry in sight on the video. As I view the tape I am filled with more anxiety and worry than I had at the time. Was she going to do it the right way? Would everyone feel loved? Will she not fuck this up? “Why isn’t she worried”, I say to the screen. “Why isn’t she hugging them harder or picking up her two year old when she asks”. Goddamnit Amy! They want things from you and you didn’t hear the request…. It’s hard to watch your younger self maneuver an ordinary day. My father used to say, “If I knew then, what I know now…”. True! If she only knew what I know now! If she only knew then she would know that there would be a day some 20 years later when she is watching herself on a screen in a kitchen that she will cry. If she only knew that she would be alone with three dogs and children either at work, on vacation, or in college while she watches her younger life. If she only knew that the laundry would be done because the loads are practically nonexistent since she became an empty nester. She would know that her older self would gladly trade places with her younger self, sitting on the floor with a newborn, a one year old, and a 4 year old, while still with a hospital bracelet on her wrist. She would know that she should have listened more intently to the stories her 4 year old was telling her about the days her mother was in the hospital for the delivery, and what she missed at home. She would know that she should hold onto that 1 year old that climbed into her lap a little tighter, because those days are short lived. She would have known that she should have stopped time. I want another chance. I want another chance at it. I want it all, again. I want to say to her that ‘You got this’. I want to tell her how beautiful her babies were going to grow up to be. I want to tell her about the soccer games and the football games, and the dance lessons, and the horse back riding. I want her to know that the children loved the proms she chaperoned. I want to tell her that the girls will someday call you their best friend. I want to tell her that she got her wish for some peace and quiet, or even a ‘break’, and that she would hate it. I want to feel the feeling of being a human jungle gym again. I want to tell her to smell the babies and feel the babies and kiss their little foreheads. Again and again and again. I want her to know that she will be turning the big 50 this year and let her know not to worry about aging because it only means that she lived. I see her gently hold her babies. I see her wipe their tears and change their diapers and strategically maneuver herself through her new little world with so much grace. I want to tell her that she looked beautiful even though I know she didn’t feel it at the time. I want to tell her that she is doing a great job. I want to tell her that when the children are older they will tell their friends stories about their childhood, and that she will hear them say it and smile. I want to tell her that the next 20 some years were successful because of what was happening in that little home in Plano, Texas; the one I was watching on the videos. I want to tell her that we are all who we are today because of all those sleepless nights she had…all those days when she thought it would never end…all those days that she wished she could get a minute to herself. I want to tell her that, well, you will get a minute to yourself…actually you will have minutes that turn into hours that turn into days by yourself. I want to tell her that she will spend those hours wishing she was on a floor somewhere in Plano, Texas, with a diaper in her hand and a toddler on her waist. You see, 20 something year old Amy, all your hard work got us to where we are today as we embark on this next chapter of your life. So if I have to tell my 20-year-old self anything it would simply be, “Thank You, we got this”.

Saw It

“No one is ever quite ready; everyone is always caught off guard. Parenthood chooses you. And you open your eyes, look at what you've got, say "Oh, my gosh," and recognize that of all the balls there ever were, this is the one you should not drop. It's not a question of choice.” 

― Marisa de los Santos, Love Walked In

Hi Moms, and Dads, and friends who treat those kids as their own, and fellow ‘villagers’ who help to raise them, and dads that are moms, and step moms, and whatever the hell you want to call yourself if you are raising a child that came out of your body or just simply one that lives in your heart…

If you know me (and you all know me by now) I have a love of words…and maybe someday when I am too old or tired to do my figure competitions I will find something to write about and finally write that book. In the meantime I will be happy with putting my thoughts in this blog and sharing my mind with you all. It is just as important to have a healthy mind as it is a healthy body. This is why I saturate myself with self help books, and sermons and inspirational quotes…. I heard a sermon the other day and I thought I would share it with you. “You cannot BE what you do not SEE”…

Oh, but I did SEE it… I saw her at every important event as my eyes searched the crowd for the most important people in the room; I saw it when I stepped in the car after a long day at school and was asked how my day was; I saw it when family vacations were meticulously planned to maximize togetherness; I saw it when I cried, when I laughed, when I hurt, when I was alone, when I was in a crowded room, I saw it when her face was the first thing I saw in the morning and the last voice I heard at night. I saw it when I needed a cheerleader or just an ear. I saw it in the way she held my hand or brushed my hair. I saw it when disease had ravaged her body but she still always had a smile on her face for me. I saw it when her final days were spent here on earth and all she wanted to do was reminisce about the family she raised. I saw it when she left….and our hearts broke. 

I saw it. 

“You cannot be what you do not see”… I saw it….and I’m trying my effing hardest to BE half the Mother that she was to me…so that my kids can SEE it and BE it to their own kids some day…. And even after she has been gone some 20 years now I still SEE it everyday…Happy Mother’s Day Mom.

Ghosts

“I walked over to the hill where we used to go and sled. There were a lot of little kids there. I watched them flying. Doing jumps and having races. And I thought that all those little kids are going to grow up someday. And all of those little kids are going to do the things that we do. And they will all kiss someone someday. But for now, sledding is enough. I think it would be great if sledding were always enough, but it isn't.”

― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

They bus in. Literally hundreds of them. The streets are lined with cars. Little red wagons are overloaded. Strollers carry the entire family as mom and dad push them from house to house. Sometimes a wine glass can be seen in the hands of the parents. Flashlights light up the street like fireflies. Carefully the parents wrangle their little ones to the next door. Dads can be seen choosing the next ‘perfect’ house. The streets are alive. I sit at home without a single trick or treater ringing my door. In fact, I don’t even have a potential ghost or goblin preparing for the night. But I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember the organization needed to haul my little ones around in our red wagon. I remember timing dinner and forcing them to eat before the big outing, as they anxiously waited until the sun went down to begin their hunt. I remember the hours of choosing the perfect costume. I remember mapping the perfect routes. I remember pulling my Parker home in a red wagon because he simply couldn’t walk another step in his Superman outfit. Once home I remember the piles of candy poured out on the floor as they counted their prizes. I remember getting home in time to hand out candy to the ‘older’ teens that would come out and think ‘ya, they are a little too old to be trick or treating’, but would gladly hand over the goods. I remember being so glad that Halloween was over. I remember being exhausted from the night. We quickly adopted a tradition of going to our neighborhood ‘Bloody Bistro’, which was actually a house full of actors that created an elaborate Halloween set each year. I could also recite exactly which houses handed out glasses of wine to the parents, which was always my favorite neighbors. I remember loading up the golf cart when they were older so that we could hit more houses in less time. As I write this I can hear the shreaks and laughter of children in the neighborhood. I remember what it felt like when Halloween meant something different than it means to me today. I see the faces of the parents walking with their children and I want to place my hands around their cheeks and say “Cherish this. Cherish this with all your heart”. Every step. Every doorbell ring. Every piece of candy. Every piggy back ride around the block. Every little costume. I want them to know that their little monster or Superman or ballerina or cowboy will grow into an adult someday. I want them to know how quickly that ‘someday’ comes. I want them to know that someday they will be sitting home on Halloween and hear the sounds of young families out their door and will remember. I caught a glimpse of a family on a golf cart tonight. The dad drove their three kids in the back of the golf cart. The children appeared exhausted. The dad was driving fast, as if to race to get home, and probably trying to catch the last half of a Monday night football game. But one little boy in the back sat slouched over his bag of loot in a giant old man mask. I thought to myself, yup they age THAT fast. Before you know it. Before you even realize it.  

I have walked through many lives so far on this journey called life. I have nursed babies that turned into toddlers that learned how to walk, then learned how to drive, then drove away.  When you are in the midst of being a young family all you ever want is for them to grow up so that you can have some time to yourself. You are so over the diapers and the bottles, dishes and drama, the homework and teenage years. You long for more time alone. Until you actually wake up one day and you are what you wished all those years for: alone. And you quietly open a fun sized Snicker bar and prepare to dress your dog up as a football player and remember the days that passed by in the blink of an eye.