Lessons of Motherhood

For a long while, I was on the fence about having children. I wasn’t sure I had what it takes to be a good mother, and that was cause for concern. It seemed to me that becoming a parent meant that you were completely responsible for the life of another human being. Given the enormity of that task, I think you’d want you know in advance that you’d at least be competent.

I remember talking to friends about what it’s like to be a mother. These conversations always made me feel like parenthood was kind of like a cult. These mothers would describe this beautiful love, the way this magical person comes to your life and changes it. I would listen and wonder, “What about sleep, do you still get to sleep?

In looking back on that time, I am not sure what I defined as being a “good” mother. Maybe someone who was patient, kind, forgiving. Someone who didn’t need much sleep. Someone who could play interactive, educational games non-stop without getting bored. Someone who made wholesome organic foods and shunned high-fructose corn syrup. And she’d do all while working outside the house, bringing home some bacon, and frying it up in pan.

In other words, someone who was perfect. And I just couldn’t see myself being that perfect.

With the help of some wonderful people, I started to realize that while I won’t be perfect, maybe I had what it takes to give it a go.

And that’s how I became a beautifully imperfect mother. And how I now can’t imagine life without the presence of this love, the magical person who came into my life and changed it.

What’s changed me the most, I think are the lessons that my daughter E has taught me. There's the little stuff like learning all the state capitals. Or being able to recite the names and details of the all the Presidents, including a juicy bit on how William Howard Taft was the heaviest President and also got stuck in a bathtub. Through E, I learned that the Blue Wiggle is also the cutest Wiggle.

Where I feel E’s mark most are the lessons that need to be felt to be completely understood.

Understanding, for example, that you will feel your child’s pain just as much, if not more, than they do. That’s there’s no more satisfying laugh then when your child makes you laugh. That you can actually feel your heart grow when your child takes your hand.  That I never feared dying until I became a mother.

If I hadn’t become a mother, I would have missed all that.

And I would have missed the chance to teach my girl my own lessons, too. There’s the basics like saying please and thank you. That you need to not laugh but to say excuse me after you pass gas. And that you always need to take a hand when you cross the street, if only to make your Mother happy.

And as she gets older, these lessons continue to evolve and become even richer.  The other night, over homework, I had a huge discussion with E about how her homework doesn’t need to be perfect, but she does need to try; to try her hardest. I told that that in the trying, you learn so much, you can see things in a way that you’ve never seen before.

There is a theory in the Montessori way of teaching that you don’t really know something until you can teach it to another. And as this journey of motherhood continues to unfold, I realize I how much of life I didn’t really know until I could teach it to E.




To all the wonderful mother’s whose lives touch mine, I wish you a wonderful celebration today!  You are perfect. Just perfect, each and every day.