Mother's Day

I am sure Mother's Day is going to be an over done topic on the blogosphere this week and I really was trying to come up with a different topic to write about, but I couldn't, so here is post number 5,672 about this magical day which leaves most of us a little disappointed.

There was a time in the not so distant past that what I wanted more than anything for Mother's Day was to wake up after a restful 9 hours of sleep to a beautifully clean home with smiling doting children holding bouquets of wildflowers they just picked and homemade cards with heartfelt sentiments about how much they love and appreciate me.  These children would then magically disappear outside for the rest of the day leaving me to watch an entire season of "Sex and the City" and read a grown up book.

Of course, this has never happened in the past 11 years, but now that Prince is a tween who would rather spend his time playing Xbox live with his friends than hanging with his mom, my fantasy of spending time alone has turned to a desperate need to force my kids to spend the day with me.  I am not ready for them to be grown up quite yet.

I definitely had an overwhelming need to always be with my boys when the were infants.  It was painful and innate.  I felt a combination of guilt and relief that I did not have a paying job to go back to right after they were born.

The husband thinks I am over protective and though I really have come a long way since the days when I wouldn't let anyone take baby Prince out for a walk for fear they would push his stroller into an open side walk gate or into oncoming traffic while carelessly navigating the mean streets of Carroll Gardens Brooklyn, I still throw up a little in my mouth whenever Scrappy Doo pumps so hard that the swing bounces at the top, and even though I was very happy that Prince was invited to his first sleep over since moving here, I had to grill him on what he would do if his friend took out a gun. There's quite a few of those up here.

The day James Dean came home from school and told me one of the boys in his class asked him why he was so small, I actually said in my out loud voice, "Tell him it is because you really are supposed to be in 3rd grade and he is supposed to be in 5th."  I tried to swallow the venomous words right after they oozed out of my mouth, but James Dean just looked at me and said, "I told him some people are small and some are big."  Lessons from an 8 year old.

Watching all of the mama animals up here is farm country makes me feel a little less crazy about my own maternal behavior.  You don't mess with a calf if mama cow is loose.  The doe who came charging out of the woods at me when her fawns got a little too close, wasn't being over protective.  She was being a mother.  That is what mothers do: We protect.  Granted, sometimes we may take it to an extreme.  Chasing down a New Jersey driver who seemed to think there is a left on red rule in Manhattan probably wasn't the best idea with then five, three and four month old boys in tow, but the mother monster inside of me didn't care if the guy was five times my size.  He had to see the faces of the kids he nearly took out (probably wasn't that close, but I did have to pull everyone back) and be told to keep his moronic driving skills in his own state.

I am sure my inner mother monster has embarrassed my children countless times.  What is up with New Jersey drivers in New York City?

Itty Bitty Kitty seems to have the same mother monster inside of her.   Athena the big labradordle got a little too close to the kittens the other day and mama released a hissing, spitting, clawing fury that made the poor dog yelp and pee on the floor as she cowered in the corner.  I would have high fived the cat right then but I was a little scared the claws were still out.

It is now 9:00 on Mother's Day morning and I have already had my traditional breakfast in bed.  The husband still hasn't learned that I don't like cheese IN my scrambled eggs; only ON my egg sandwich.  James Dean just woke up and gave me a big hug which was a little tighter and a little longer than usual, which truly is the best Mother's Day present I could ever wish for.

In the very wise words of my bestie's beautiful mom, "Kids need roots and wings."  I am still working on digging the roots down to the Earth's core, but the wings are starting to sprout.

Happy Mother's Day to all those fierce mother monsters out there.