It hurts.
But one of the rules of motherhood is that you’re not supposed to let your kids know they hurt you. They can hit you, bite you, call you names and tell their entire class at sharing time that you once put them in time out for intentionally peeing on the carpet when in reality they were just holding a water bottle between their legs and pretending to pee and then you made them lick the floor to prove it was just water (not my proudest mothering moment). But no matter what they do, you can’t let them know when they truly, deeply wound you.
You must learn the difference between chirping “No biting mommy’s nipple! Ouch!” to teach a nursing baby that you are dine-in only, not take-out, and saying to your kindergartner “You broke my heart.” You’re the mom. The rock. The unshakeable foundation against which they can rail and fight against but will ultimately hold them up. No matter what.You are their mom. And, for better or for worse, the only one they get.
But just because you can’t say it doesn’t mean they don’t break your heart sometimes. On what shoulder does the comforter cry?
Oh honey. You broke my heart. With this valentine.
First, I have to say how impressed I am that he knows how old I am (on my husband’s valentine he wrote he was 67 – hah!). But. My favorite thing to do is not “work so we can get more money.” It’s not! (If I say it enough will you believe me? Will I?) And I don’t want him to think my greatest skill is “the computer.” Egads. Good thing Dickens is dead or I’d have a night of ghostly visitors coming my way. I might have understood if he’d written that my favorite thing was “to exercise” or “talk on the phone to her sister” or even “hide in her closet and eat candy that she won’t share with us because she says that people who think Tootsie rolls are good can’t possibly appreciate imported Belgian chocolate.”
In truth? My favorite thing to do is watch him sleep. And not because he’s finally not shrieking. Because it feels like an immense privilege to watch over these little bodies – so tiny a twin bed dwarfs them – and to see the dreams flickering behind their eyelids and know that they believe, honestly, that they will grow up to be a master ninja, a fighter pilot, a catcher of dreams. I love how my eldest must sleep with a phlanx of giant, gaudy carnival animals. How my second son sleeps anywhere but his bed (every night is a game of Where’s Slumbering Waldo – favorite answer: in a garbage can). How my third son, my heartbreaker, needs to tie his talisman of safety (a plastic candy cane, a bell and a dinosaur) in a series of intricate knots above his bed before he can nod off. And I get tears in my eyes for the simple beauty that Jelly Bean still sleeps with her bum in the air; Miss Independent by day betrayed by the traces of her lingering infancy at night.
Have you ever read the real Peter Pan? In A Little White Bird by J.M. Barrie? It is the treatise on unsung mother heartbreak – seen from the child’s blind perspective, which makes it that much more wrenching. In the book it is a combination of the one-week-old infant’s own willfulness and the mother’s unintentional neglect that causes the tragic severance. (Oh and there are fairies involved.) In reality there is so much in this world to pull my children away from me. And I don’t want one of those things to be the computer. A machine! It doesn’t even have wings or sprinkle dust! In Peter Pan, there is no way back across the chasm. Peter is – spoiler alert – dead. But my story is not already finished and theirs has just begun. Fact: There is yet time. Fiction: There is limitless time.
I want to be a good mother. I want that more than I want anything. I don’t want him to remember me always tired, always scrambling for money (four kids, things are tight, yet we are immensely blessed). I want him to remember me like this:
The mother who gave him her smile.
P.S. For anyone who wants to see my mediocre mothering skills in action, the kiddos and I will be on the Today Show today (Thursday, March 8) around 8:20 a.m.! I’ll post the link when I have it.
My brother’s kid made a valentine that said “I like Daddy because he likes to tickle G! S. loves Mommy because she is nice.” I have to wonder if my brother just isn’t nice … 😉
Y’know what? I’ll bet he DOES think of you as the fun mom. I’ll bet he admires how hard you work so that you have money for the things like plastic candy canes and dinosaurs (and new trash cans, should the need arise).
And I’ll bet you’re his best girl.
His favorite valentine!
Thanks for makeing me cry, Char! Last year, my son wrote in his journal that my favorite thing to do is take naps. Ugh! I had a newborn! Still, it broke my heart.
I think you are taking this the wrong way. I’m thinking your son is proud that you work and earn money.
Alone.
Charlotte, you are raising your kids with a good heart and lots of love. They will grow up knowing this as a fact. Little kids say things in their child-like (bless them) honesty. Doesn’t mean it’s bad or wrong. I agree with Crumpled Moments- I too think your son is proud of what you do.
I can see myself as a kid writing something like that (in fact, I’m wondering if I ever did..) not to be mean… or because I really thought those things, but because I imagine I would have tried to answer the questions in a serious “school” way. (I was a bit high strung /serious when it came to school)
My father worked incredibly hard my entire life. Was out of the country for a couple of years… and worked long hours (leaving for work at 4am… getting home after 10pm) at a law firm my entire time in high school… I would’ve easily written that my father likes to work and is good at work, because I would’ve wanted him to know that I appreciated him and that I knew he valued those things — not more than myself… but that he did value them.
I really would imagine your son DOES see all those other things in you…. but that they just seem like YOU rather than work… rather than your favorite thing… rather than… you know?
My mom made me a scrapbook of all those kinds of things she had saved from kindergarden through high school. I laughed SO hard about the things I wrote. And yes, some were like that, where I wondered how my mom didn’t burst into tears (she told me later she did), but if it is any consolation, I don’t remember writing, saying, or even thinking those things. I remember my mom as nothing but the best mom in the world. I’m sure your son will say the same later.
How could he not, with that BEAUTIFUL photo?!?!
Totally off topic, but your son has amazing penmanship. Seriously! Also, it could be taken as really sweet that he thinks that you work hard for his sake! 🙂 I’m sure he meant everything in a good way.
I have to agree with the others who believe he was trying to compliment you!
But this totally makes me cringe to think how many times as a kid I must have said insensitive things out of a total cluelessness about people’s emotions, how things work, why people do what they do, etc.
It is so clear what an awesome parent you are I KNOW your kids truly bask in it.
Just wanted to say how awesome that photo is!
I also work from home, too, and am on the computer randomly throughout the day. My son is fairly understanding about it, but I totally understand where you are coming from! I think this is similar to working mom guilt when she leaves her children with the sitter, only you’re there to see your child ask about your work, etc.
Don’t feel bad, either. I think children also need examples of people who work hard to get the things they have, and they will have a better appreciation of not only money and work, but family time, too.
Little kids really don’t have a sense of responsibility – they do chores because Mommy and Daddy tell them to, but usually when they’re that young, they’re still learning about consequences, and often school is more fun than work at that age. Kids don’t really do things they don’t like to do out of a sense of responsibility – they don’t hit that stage of development until pre-teen and teen years. There’s a pretty good chance that he sees you doing that a lot, and doesn’t see anyone telling you that you have to, so he assumes you’re doing it because you enjoy it, because (to a kid) why else would you? I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re providing a great example of personal responsibility and work ethic that they will appreciate as they grow older, and you are providing for them. Cherish the moments you do have, but all the family moments in the world don’t make up for not having a safe place to sleep and food to eat, which all require work. I know that’s hard, but I really wouldn’t worry about it 🙂
ok, let me share a story first. In the 3rd grade or so, my son had to fill out a similar thing for me for Mother’s Day. When asked, to fill in the blank for My Mother Looks Prettiest When….. he wrote — “she goes to the club.” SHRIEK. I kept thinking he could have wrote somethign really nice, like “when she goes to church.” Or whatever. Instead, I’m the young mom hitting up the clubs. It still makes me laugh.
Its ok. Your’re a great mom. And he MOST DEFINITELY has your smile. so cute. 🙂
Awww! That pictures is so adorable! I can’t get over it! He really does have your smile. And being good at the computer is bad in our minds, as adults inundated with info about how we spend too much time on computers, but I don’t think kids have that bias. I probably would have said that about my Mom as a kid too- even though she worked only part time (and eventually quit) and did tons of fun things with me. It’s just a different perspective.
You can have either of my shoulders and then I want to drag you to the next Motherhood and Words writing retreat. You spoke for a lot of us in this beautiful post.
If it makes you feel any better, we asked my five year old similar questions last week (we try to make videos of her answering these questions, i.e., what is your favourite thing? what are your favourite things to do as a family? what do you want to be when you grow up?) every six months or so just to have for posterity). When asked, “what is daddy really good at?” she replied, “helping!”. So nice. When asked, “what is mommy good really good at?” she replied, after a moment’s pause in a very serious voice, “being the boss”.
After a second of thinking “is that really how she seems me? As no fun and bossy?”, I reminded myself that it was just a spur of the moment five-year old answer, and if I asked her the same question a week later her answer could be totally different. In the end we all had a good laugh. (Plus, it’s true, I AM the boss).
Oh my gosh, I am 7 months pregnant and after reading this thought, holy crap am I really ready for this??? eek. At least I have a little more time until he or she can verbalize 🙂
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All depending how intense the realtionship was I caon only relate it to a death and you actually go through the levals of mourning, you will go through denial, blame, Nd finally acceptance, if it should be to deastationg for someone seek a pastor, or professional help.