[One-of-a-kind hand-stitched embroidery works by Amy Tingle, with a line of one of Maya Stein's 10-line Tuesday poems touching on motherhood.]
Today was one of the best Mother's Days I've had in quite a while although, truthfully, they're all pretty amazing, especially since my daughter Sarah has become a mom; I get immense pleasure seeing her in action, parenting Colin with such patience as well as joy. He is so much like her, and she is so much like me, and I am so much like my mom. The nut definitely does not fall far from the tree.
Both my sons are in the restaurant business so, since it's one of their busiest holidays, they were of course unable to join us (and we will celebrate another time), but we invited Sarah and Colin over for a Pool Day, and I ordered in advance the Mimosa Starter Kit/Mother's Day Brunch Box from Einstein Bagels (no muss, no fuss, no bother), which my husband picked up:
Lest you worry about my dietary/nutritional choices, I had vegan cream cheese, sprinkled with Everything But the Bagel seasoning, topped with vegan smoked salmon (yes, there is such a thing!), and felt completely satisfied!
Long-story-short is that Colin is obsessed with wild animals, and I gave him a wildebeest figurine this morning, and he had more fun teasing us all: "Is it a warthog? Noooooo, it's a wildebeest!" he said, multiple times, with a twinkle in his eye. Hilarious!
I gave Sarah a few items related to Schitt's Creek (which she and Rob got me watching a few months ago): a Fold In the Cheese dishtowel, a sideways S necklace (like Alexis' A), and an Ew David tank top, which was running late and naturally arrived after they'd left.
Her present to me was promise of brunch/lunch at a new local farmer's market, with lots of vegan options, maybe even this next weekend. My husband gave me a giftcard to Chico's (one of my favorite clothing stores, which I haven't stepped foot in in over a year), and will enjoy redeeming.
Yesterday afternoon I decided to watch Moxie on Netflix and, halfway through, texted everybody I know to encourage them to view it as well. Excellent film, which reminded me of my younger protesting days (as opposed to my older protesting days, ha!), and also my friend M's daughter K (my son Rob's age), who used to publish a 'zine in high school, to which I subscribed. Today's blog post song came from the movie, which reminded me that, although I've certainly made my share of mistakes in life, if there's one thing I can say with absolutely certainty, it's that I have always been and continue to be a good mom. I take great pride in knowing that I have instilled in my children all the important values: thoughtfulness, compassion, generosity, kindness, integrity, the importance of equality and social justice (and working toward it), passion, a love of music and language/books, creativity, and a great sense of humor. [S]he who laughs, lasts... 😄
SONG: Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill ("That girl, she holds her head up so high, I think I wanna be her best friend, yeah")
POEM(S): What Children Say by Kate Baer
I can’t reach my cup, my water bottle,
the snack up on the shelf. I can’t do
it. I won’t do it. I would never do it
in a million years. You need to help
me. Help me faster. Do it the way
I asked you to. I don’t like pizza or
watermelon. I don’t like anything I
liked before. I do not want it. I do
not need it. I will never move up off
this floor. Do not help me. Do not
hold me. Do not sit down beside my
bed. I’m not sleeping. I’m not tired.
I’m too scared to fall asleep. You must
hold me. You must rock me. Do not
leave me all alone. I am thirsty. I am
hungry. I am too tired to put my toys
away. Do not be angry. Do not start
singing. Where is the butterfly I drew?
I’m still hungry. I’m still playing. Will
you leave me? Will you stay?
What Mothers Say by Kate Baer
I am tired. I am sleeping. I am heading
up to bed. Is it Tuesday? What’s tomorrow?
When’s the last I slept alone?
I am thinking. I am talking. Do you see
I’m on the phone? Bring the dishes, find
your blanket, put that book back on the
shelf. It is bedtime. It is rest time. You
need to go and brush again. I am working.
I am eating. This is why we bought you
toys. Go and play now, find your brother,
find elsewhere to make your ship. I am
angry, you’re not listening. Please stop
crying on the floor. It’s a school night.
Do your homework. Let me come and
scratch your back. I am listening. I can
hear you. Thanks for telling me the
truth. Let me closer, let me help you.
I am here now. Let me stay.
Stronger That You Know by Kate Baer
My friend’s young daughter tells her mother:
you’re stronger that you know.
We repeat this, even though it doesn’t make
sense. We say it to cheer each other up. We
say it, knowing how much harder it is: that vs.
than. One suggests it was always inside you.
The other suggests it’s better you’ve learned
the coin can flip either way.
We tell our daughters they can be anything.
We call them warrior, fierce, and brave
as if they arrive in war paint and heels
to fight off our old demons.
And when they suffer, which they do
we offer our consolations:
This is a part of it.
Take a deep breath.
Look at you kicking your legs.
Moon Song by Kate Baer
You are not an evergreen unchanged
by the pitiless snow. You are not a photo,
a brand, a character written for sex or
house or show. You do not have to choose
one or the other: a dream or a dreamer, the
bird or the birder. You may be a woman of
commotion and quiet. Magic and brain.
You can be a mother and a poet. A wife and
a lover. You can dance on the graves you dug
on Tuesday, pulling out the bones of yourself
you began to miss. You can be the sun and the
moon, the dance a victory song.
QUOTE: "When a mother somewhere forgives herself for being human, earth exhales a little." ~ Breeze
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