I Send My Dad A Mother's Day Card Every Year...And Here's Why

I stopped hiding my insanely broken and messed up relationship with my mom a few years ago after I survived living with her for a year. If I had to say anything, and keep it simple about my relationship with her, I'd Facebook cliche it and stamp it, "it's complicated."

My mom wasn't much of a "mom." Mostly I call her by her given name and not "mom." When I was acting a fool when she lived with me, going through some of the most rough years of my life job-wise, marriage wise and in motherhood, the one moment I asked her to have my back, she said no. And that's when I stopped pretending that we were anything besides biologically related, and realized she was just my child's grandma. In turn, I think I've done better since.

My mom was never a comforting force. She was an erratic, hyper ball of fun and dysfunction. She bought me all the crap I wanted until one day, it all disappeared. She was gone for awhile when I was 12. She came back, things got ugly again and then she left until I was 16. By the time I turned 16 she had carved out a decent environment for me to join her in, and I wanted to try the whole having a mom thing again. It failed in exactly 365 days.

My dad had to be both parents a lot. He physically drove from Oregon to Florida to get me to take me back to Oregon to finish high school and live there. He was the parent that was ALWAYS there. So I send him a Mother's Day card every year.

I still acknowledge my mom, but mostly as a Grandma. If I truly laid out the honest horror of my childhood with her, not only would I ruin my ideas for a book, but I'm pretty sure she'd lose her mind and probably slip into dementia to avoid dealing with all the mental massacre. She side-talks and references the damage sarcastically. We've never had a face off; and never will.

When she was living with me at age 32, I reverted right back to exactly 16 years prior at  age 16 of acting out against her and even my husband because things were completely in disarray. Not my finest hour, or year if you will. My dad told me she used to call and email him complaining about me. What did my dad do in my time of turmoil? Pay my therapy bills like when I was 13, all over again.

My dad was the parent who rubbed my tummy and back when I was uncomfortable, held my hair back over the toilet when I was sick and puking with the flu. My dad was the one who made sure I ate three square meals and didn't inhale junk food. My dad was the parent buying Midol, tampons and pads when I needed them. My dad was the one who reached out to my aunt to help me when I needed my first bra. My dad was the one I cried with at movies and when my mom wasn't around.

My mom has admitted she was a mom until I was about 5 or 6 and then mentally checked out until her physical departure in my older years. I don't think I'd ever just blanket statement claim she was a "shit mom." I just think that she wasn't much of a mom in totality.

My mom and I have gone through good phases, but it wasn't until a decade ago that I had to be her rock bottom in more ways than one. After two years of healing and 3 years of growing up in life and in my marriage, when I became pregnant I had to level with myself, "Okay, so your mom wasn't great to you, but you don't get to take her away from your kid. It's up to her whether she wants to be a Grandmother to her grandchild, and as the child ages, up to her what relationship she has with her Grandma." This was a huge step for me.

My mom has been a good Grandma, so we mostly celebrate Mother's Day that way. But I send my dad a Mother's Day card every year. I call my dad on Mother's Day every year.

My dad was just more of a mom. My dad has been my rock, my sounding board and my reliable parent. He officiated my wedding, he was at the birth of my only child and never missed an important milestone in my life. The same just can't be said for my mom, and I've accepted that.

My dad taught me to sew. My dad helped me set up my first bank account and showed me how to write checks and use credit cards. My dad put me through college. My dad bought my wedding dress and helped me pick it out. My dad always encouraged me in times I needed therapy and was struggling. He's the best Mom and Dad ever and will always be celebrated.

As far as stuff with my mom, we just kind of float on. She drives me nuts but at least she's around. Sometimes I wish she wanted to be more of my mom, but as a mother myself, I can at least now see why it wasn't for her, and it makes me feel grateful I pushed past any genetic dispositions to point me in a direction otherwise.

The times I have been the most selfish in my marriage and my parenthood have mirrored much of my childhood, but I refuse to let that dictate the growth of my daughter. I will be her reliable parent like my dad was for me, no matter what. Her dad seems to be on the right track too so she'll be doubly strong!

My mom has the Grandma spoiling thing down. I hear her and my daughter fight just like she did with me. She often mistakenly calls my daughter by my name. And I'm glad she wants to be a good Grandma, because my daughter deserves that. With the upcoming holiday I wish everyone a great Mother's Day weekend, no matter what baggage you're carrying with you around it. 

I encourage everyone to be sensitive, maybe even overly so. This holiday is rough on many people for many, many reasons and needs to be respected and understood for it's complicated triggers. There are many different kinds of moms and this day is just about celebrating them in appreciation of all they do or have done. So enjoy the weekend, self care if and when you need to, and embrace it however you need. Maybe you have a step-mom you celebrate more, maybe you have mom friends you cherish or maybe you too send your dad a mother's day card! Maybe you have a legit mom that moms like a boss and will celebrate with you! Just have a happy, calm Mother's Day!

Mindful Mothering

I envision that the tales of my childhood will someday be book-worthy. If I could ever write the full scope, it could be a best seller. But for now, with only the blog and short bursts of writing time, we'll condense it by topic.

Last year when planning my daughter's 5th birthday, my mother reminded me that it was about that time in my childhood, when she checked out mentally and retired from motherhood. I like to refer to it as "when the shit got real." For my daughter and I, as soon as VPK and Kindergarten hit, it's a whole new realm of mothering and for some, or maybe just me, it was uncomfortable at first, even unfriendly.

My mom mentally left the idea of being a mom when I was 5 and physically left when I was about 12. The timeline can get fuzzy unless you have my mom and I start reminiscing and then it's a fight for who remembers what better, and the "right way."

Through the worst few years of my personal life, I successfully "checked out" mentally for just under 6 months. And I was still her mom, I just was a super selfish one. When I couldn't keep up with life and wasn't even getting what I thought the results should be out of my "selfish phase," I had a heart to heart with myself and quit being so ridiculous and started to deal and then heal. Okay the real story also involves being "scared straight" to a degree, but again, I have a book to write people. I have to keep some mystery.

For whatever reason, at a young age I realized rather quickly that my mom was not like other moms. In fact I used to call her Cindy and not mom because "Everyone else calls her Cindy, why wouldn't I?," I said. I used to say about the moms that cooked, sewed and did hair and nails they were "Like, real moms."

My mom never cooked. My mom bought clothes, she didn't sew them, but my dad did. My mom never let me wear make-up. She took me to get fancy hair cuts and told me she'd kill me if I ever colored or permed my hair. I never had my nails done. She hated nail polish and my dad hated that it stained everything.

I don't remember my mom taking me to do anything with her, just driving me to and from appointments and play dates, and buying me stuff. This isn't to say she never spent time with me, but nothing sticks out as what my daughter would call "quality time"

Recently I discovered that living with my mom had some weird affects on me. She spent a year with us after the car accident and I reverted to the same behavior I used the year of high school I lived with her. It was rough on us both, but, we made it through relatively unscathed.

If you ask her now, she says I took advantage of her living with us. She's not wrong, there was a degree of that, but she also will never know the full story of everything else going on with my personal and family life, even as we were under the same roof. And in my hour of need, when I put myself out there saying, "Mom, I might really need your help," she said no. 

Generally, I admit I feel like a "bad mom," whether it's working too much, or not enough, yelling too much, not engaging enough or just not being involved more. There are a lot of expectations for moms, way more than when my mom was raising me I feel. And the fact that I'm only 6 years in and have failed at some things a time or two, ugh, I hate that so much and I've worked on getting my ass in gear.

Some of the people closest to me remind me that I'm a good mom, which usually makes me ugly cry, but "Momming ain't easy." Some days are much better than others. Last night my daughter and I had some serious quality time, and the past two weeks for us have been so much better in general, that I feel like I'm turning a corner and working on being that "good mom" that others seem to see in there.

I've decided that this newfound mothering mentality comes from my mindfulness stuff. Or should I say that mindfulness just spans every aspect of my mentality now, including motherhood. I had my "ah-ha moment" last night.

I finally got my kid to understand the power of Netflix and Chill, in the complete and literate sense that sometimes it's okay to binge-watch My Little Pony or hours of Disney movies after a long week of school, aftercare, girl scouts, horseback riding lessons and play dates. You're allowed to be a kid. So yesterday we had horseback riding and then she had a play date and then I said, okay...we're going to go pick out a movie for you to watch on Red Box, then we'll do nails and face masks in between and have popcorn and treats but we just get to chill!

She was super on board and loved every minute: 

It was a simple thing for a Saturday when my husband was working and we were just having a girls night, but it felt so awesome. And my mom never did that kind of stuff with me. 

I thought I had always been mindful about being a mom, but I realized with as bad as things have been, I inadvertently end up snapping at her, being cranky and unfair or just only being half there. Last night I was all in and I noticed the difference in how it radiated through. She's listened better today. She's allowed me to have my space but asked for help when she needed it and asked me to be around for when she wanted me around.

Being a mother is exhausting, rewarding, defeating, and amazing. You can get everything and nothing out of it all at the same time. It's thankless but oddly gratifying. It can tear you apart and heal your whole world all within the span of 10 minutes. It's the best rollercoaster you'll ever board. 

I think that we all do our best when we're living under our version of better circumstances, but we're only human. Sometimes we break down and just can't handle this crazy thing called life. That's okay. I've been broken and beaten and put myself back together, or at least tried. My fundamental truth in it all is I have this little person to raise, no matter what. It doesn't matter what happens at work, with my husband, with my bills and finances, or with friends, I am her mother and she's my daughter. We are ride or die, Luna and I. I didn't mean for that rhyme or sound ridiculous but it is the truth.

As I've taken better care of myself these past few weeks, I've cared for her infinitely better. We've been kinder and more patient. We've been sweeter and less sassy with each other. We've made better agreements and had more meaningful conversations and moments as mother and daughter.

This mindfulness stuff is so hard, but I've found it's also totally worth it. As bad as it may sound, I won't be my mom. I had a taste of the "check out" plan and I don't want to order that from the menu ever again. I like being the one here when the fever breaks and nightmares happen. I like being the one she tells her secrets to and then gets mad at for annoying her. I like being the person she snuggles up on. Before long she won't want me around as much anyway. When I was 15, I was mother free, and when we tried to live together it was worse than a bad Lifetime movie.

My mom missed all the mom moments that I won't. The first bra, the first kiss, the first homecoming, prom, the shopping for the dresses and shoes, the boyfriends, the dates and everything. I had aunts and moms of friends and my dad. I was really good at making work what I had available but missed having any kind of mom when I needed it most. I won't give Luna the chance to miss me, even if it means smothering her, which she will hate and I will gladly do so. 

I'm a work in progress, but a mindful mother I will continue to grow into. I may not be able to volunteer for the school events and be cookie chair, but I'll be there for the first period, the sex talk, the girl fights, the boy fights, the dating, the outfits, the hair and especially the face masks, nail painting and sewing. I don't cook either but I can make a mean sandwich and salad, and I'm great with BOGO shopping. She'll do okay. 

And with all this mindful mothering, I can be one more cliche of, "Be the person you needed when you were a kid," for her; whether she likes it or not.

Most Of Parenting Is Uncomfortable And Isn't Covered In A Single Book

You read all the books right? The parenting books? The parenting theories and ideas? Yeah, me neither. I don't buy them, pun intended. I don't buy them and I don't buy the idea that anyone actually knows "how" to parent. It's all improvisation. We all do what we can.

So I'm going to write about how I'm a bad mom or a confused mom I guess. And if anyone wants to reach out for advice on this one, I'm in. 

We have a little girl that lives close by and used to come over often. She is two years older than Luna. I knew only a little bit about the family situation as, 1) it's none of my business, 2) I do everything in my power not to be a judgmental person and 3) again, none of my business. What I gathered is that she lived partly with mom, partly with Dad, Stepmom, and Grandmother, who lived closest to us and we conversed with from time to time. She was home often with just her grandmother. 

Things were okay for awhile. Admittedly, I don't like most children that are not mine, I'm only partial to maybe like 7 or 8 kids that I see regularly, most others are not my favorite for one reason or another. But finally I started paying closer attention and I heard the little girl, a guest mind you, telling Luna she was smarter than her, she was bigger than her, she was better than her. Any food we offered was "disgusting and she's a picky eater anyway." Any toys we had, she had better ones, but didn't want to go home." She would cry and fight and scream immediately if she didn't get her way. She was even mean to the dog.

I kept telling myself that every kid is different, maybe she was going through something, and I just needed to be patient and kind. But finally I heard her telling my daughter she was "stupid" and my daughter was saying, "Hey if we don't get along, we can't play, let's try this. Okay, how about this?" This little girl constantly said, no, no, no, those ideas were dumb and I even heard some "shut ups" here and there. 

The last straw was when I made lunch. I came from a household that was very much, "Eat what is put in front of you and be thankful someone prepared food for you, like it or not!" This kiddo was apparently quite the opposite. I made my daughter a turkey and cheese sandwich and asked her what she would like. She complained and started combing my fridge and pantry. "You can just make me mac and cheese I guess," she shrugged. I said, "Well no, that's the last box we have and I'm not making a separate meal for just you. We're having sandwiches. Would you like turkey and cheese? Salami and cheese? Peanut butter and jelly?" "Just cheese," she said. "Oh like a grilled cheese sandwich," I asked her to clarify. "No just slices of cheese." I sighed. "Okay." I plated two slices of mild cheddar on the plate and she ate half of one slice, said she was full and wanted dessert. Nope. Maybe at your house kid. She ended the lunch with "I mean that cheese was gross anyway." 

It ended up being more "shut ups" and rudeness for the remainder of the play date and after she threw a tantrum and was sent home I talked to my daughter. I told her I'm not so sure we could have her over anymore. My daughter asked why and I told her that I didn't like the way she spoke to her and the way she made her feel after they were together.

I noticed that after their play dates my daughter would become rude and whiny. She would talk about being better than other kids and taller, smarter and bigger. I didn't like it. She would complain more and listen less, like looking up to this kid who kept making an example of what older and better looked like, was her only example. 

This was about 6 months ago and honestly we've been so busy that having her over just became less and less possible, so it was dropped from being an issue. My daughter sees her at school though and says she's nicer now. She's been asking to play with her.

Here's my thing: it's not my place or my responsibility to parent this kid. I can't force her to act in the way that I want my child to act. I can't make her be kind, thoughtful and respectful. And I also have no idea what she's going through at home so me being the "mean mom" serves no one. But when another kid is just mean and malicious to my daughter? I lose my nice filter and I want to put the little shit bag in her place. Excuse the language but just thinking about the behavior ticks me off.

These are the things no one tells you about in the parenting books. My husband says I should talk to her parents to which I quickly snap, "You go to talk to her parents!" Because I'm a mature adult like that. 

How do you have a conversation like that? "Hey your kid is kind of an asshole, sorry!" Plus, this is just my Mama bear opinion. Maybe they think Luna is an asshole! My kid might be a handful, but I'm a biased mother that assumes her child is perfect except when she's testing my boundaries. That's motherhood, right?

So I just let things fizzle. I mean how involved in their lives should I be? Where is the overstepping of boundaries. On the one hand maybe she has grown up a bit and they can play better together. On the other, do I put myself in a position to let her more or less bully my daughter again if that is what it comes to? So here comes more of the balancing act, another subject not even remotely covered in parenting books.

My newest idea is to reach out and invite her back over, but only let them play here under my strict supervision. Perhaps only when my husband and I are both home, so that we can better balance the situation. Besides, over with this kid's grandmother my daughter eats more junk in an hour than she does in a week. Yeah I was that kid too, but my mom never stepped in and did anything! I am not going to be THAT mom. 

So here I am, letting Luna have a play date with one of my favorite children, not this other kid yet, while I'm writing this out and mulling it over, while I'm finding my balance and bearings with it all. They don't cover this in the books and they romanticize so much of parenting in all television and movies, or make it into satire so you can't actually say, "Yes I completely relate."

This is the part of parenting that I hate. It's uncomfortable to talk about, write about and to deal with. It makes you feel like a bad mom, and kind of a not so great person. It makes you question how horrible you are in actuality. Am I completely horrible or like a normal amount of horrible? Those are not fun questions.

Please send me a copy of the parenting book that helps you deal with asshole kids and their parents. Or perhaps this is my calling to write one, because it feels really unfair. We all parent differently and every single child is different and we are all a product of our environment. I barely even attribute myself as being a "good mom" so I certainly have no right to call out any other parents. I just do my best to protect my kid. I'm doing what I can.

I'm sure this will warrant another installment. I have no doubt in fact. But for now, I hope that some other parent reads this and can either send along advice, or thinks "Damn, I'm so glad I'm not the only one." One small step for me in motherhood, one giant step for me trying to be less horrible in general. 

I shall write more as things progress. Happy Sunday!

The Morning Rush...10 Minutes Late or Bust!

The movie Bad Moms is worth a watch at some point, if it's not already in your favorites list, for many reasons in fact, but it opens with a line that goes something like "I had kids and I've been late every day ever since." This is factual. 

I used to be chronically early to everything. I was that person who, if you're not early you're not on time because just arriving on time is too close to too late! And then when you have a child, it takes longer to do anything and everything. Ever. Not to mention you're never the creator of your own schedule, that baby/toddler/kid is.

Now, I can be mostly on time for work (I'm usually in the parking garage by 8...in the office by 8:05) and if I need to be anywhere without my husband or child, I am usually about 10 minutes late unless it's an appointment, like for a doctor or dentist, you know anything PAID for. Generally, however, I am late. 

It's not a laziness thing, well not always, and it's not a procrastination thing, well not always. I like to think it's just another badge on motherhood sash. If any of you moms out there are always on time, please teach me your ways!

Every morning I think I give myself the perfect amount of time to get ready and then I get distracted or forget that I already forgot something or everything and it just snowballs. When my daughter blissfully sleeps through my getting-ready-for-work time, I'm fine, but when she wants to come talk to me when I'm trying to sip my coffee or demands breakfast early or wants help picking out clothes or, "I can't reach this," or "Mom, mom, mom, mom!," that's when it all goes awry. And fast.

Things are much better now than when she was really little, but I can never seem to give us enough time for the "getting from the house into the car," routine. They can NEVER find their shoes or they need to bring a toy or they want a snack or they need 500 other things. You ask them to pee 6 times and you'll still end up stopping more often than not. Then getting into the car seat is ridiculous; it always takes much longer than it rightfully should. 

My husband somehow manages to never get in the car at the same time as we do; we always get in the car and wait for him because I usually drive. Then my daughter starts whining about, "Why is daddy taking so long! He's taking forever! When are we leaving?" It's a fun game.

With no one in my way, I CAN be on time but as a mom, I'm not so sure "No one in your way" actually exists. It might be like Narnia, a place only accessible through some kind of secret and magic entrance.

I honestly barely put much effort into my appearance anymore. I once left the house with only one eye having mascara on it and with jelly on the side of my shirt from a morning hug. I ALMOST left the house, more than once, with different flip flops, and no it wasn't a trend setting type thing. I don't wear expensive make-up nor do I have some crazy routine for skin care or maintenance. My goal is to look "somewhat put together." So "getting ready," is rarely a long process, but the many interruptions elongate everything.

Children always have something they need to tell you, but it doesn't seem to be completely necessary to tell you this thing until you're already doing all the other things. Kids timing is impeccable. But I will take ownership, I'm often late because I also try to do TOO MUCH in not enough time.

For most people this results in less than awesome results, but for me, it somehow makes me work harder in some self-competition. Oh did you not realize from all aforementioned Friends references that I'm mostly Monica? Yes. And I love cleaning and arranging as a way to physically display my ability to control variables in my chaotic world.

These are all my contributing lateness factors that I suspect most of us have in common and again, anyone who is on time, please teach me how to be an adult in this capacity. 

Maybe I'll be more timely one day, but much like being tired, I think being late is just who I am now. It's all intricately connected into my entire world of mothering. We all have our strengths, being timely is not mine. I can make a mean salad though, but if I invite you for dinner, it won't be ready exactly on time so maybe have a snack first...