Published: May 14, 2008 07:10 pm            

There’s no perfect card to celebrate motherhood

Which is more difficult — finding the right figure for a tax form, finding matching socks when you’re 15 minutes late for a key appointment, finding a helpful salesperson in a mega-mart, or finding the right Mother’s Day card?

Few relationships are as complicated, emotionally charged or amorphous as those with our mothers. Our mom can be our staunchest ally, our harshest critic, our most frustrating obstacle and our greatest comfort, all in the course of one afternoon. How do you put all that in a card? The flowery cards ignore the all-too-real disappointment. The sarcastic cards belittle a person we truly love. And the generic cards make light of one of the most significant relationships in our lives. As I stand in the card aisle holding 30 cards looking for one to convey the truth of a mother or read the cards my children give me, I wish they would include:

Mothers are imperfect. Despite the Mother’s Day cards extolling the perfection of moms, most of us know we’re not. We yell when we should be patient, judge when we should accept, criticize when we should encourage and forget what we should remember. Moms are human; therefore, imperfect. The cards that picture perfect moms are not only unrealistic, they miss one of the greatest strengths of motherhood. Moms are raising human — therefore imperfect — children. As our children watch us struggle with and overcome our flaws, they learn how to struggle with and overcome theirs. They witness strength in the middle of weakness, perseverance in the middle of struggle, and resilience in the middle of failure. Moreover, our failings make us more gracious with our children’s failings. Though most of us long to be perfect mothers, our imperfection may be the greatest gift we give.

Mothers are complicated. When we’re with our children, we wonder what we’re missing in the rest of life. When we’re pursuing other interests, we miss our children. We need time alone to recharge, but when our children leave, we feel abandoned. We pull back to force reluctant children to stand on their own, and we abandon all else to engage when our children wish we’d leave them alone. As complicated, inconsistent and anxious people as we are, one thing is sure — we adore our children. We just want to do what’s right, and we struggle mightily to get a clue as to what that might be.

Mothers are criminals. We practice law, medicine and psychology, all without a license. We judge our children’s disputes and create penal systems more effectively than most courts and penitentiaries. We are the first line of defense, the primary diagnostician, and the long-term nurse of illness all wrapped into one. Mothers are confidants of their children’s deepest fears and fondest dreams. We encourage and empower our children to chase their dreams even as they face their fears. We teach them how to accept others and themselves. Sure, we may not have a degree nor pass an exam. But, on the whole, society is healthier due to the labors of moms than the labor of any others in these professions.

Mothers are the source of good things — acceptance, comfort, standards and forgiveness. A mother’s acceptance teaches her children they are significant, gifted, cherished people. A mother’s comfort helps children cope when a tricycle wrecks, a shot misses or a friend betrays. A mother’s standards force her children to pay for the shoplifted candy bar, apologize for the trampled flowers, rewrite the sloppy essay and practice the full 30 minutes on their instrument. While the world will let them slouch, slide, side-step and stumble, mothers call their children to be the best they can be. A mother’s forgiveness teaches her children they are bigger than their failures and valued for who they are more than what they do. As we offer these nuggets during the daily course of life, we give our children a treasure the world can never rob.

Mothers tell us who we are, show us who we should be and celebrate all we become. You can’t fit all that into a simple card any more than mothering fits into a separate, little compartment of life. So, maybe I should give card writers a break and stop expecting the perfect card to celebrate motherhood one day of the year. Perhaps, Mother’s Day becomes merely a pause to recognize that imperfect, complicated person who loves, accepts and believes in her children, and shapes their deepest impressions of themselves. Though this can’t fit in a card, it all fits in the heart of a mom.



Tess Worrell is the mother of eight and teaches parenting and marriage. E-mail her at tess@family-matters. us.

        

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