A mom is the inherent usher of her children’s physical, spiritual, emotional, mental, and all-aligned development. Increasingly today, she could be the only one. Likely, this assignment does not flow seamlessly every minute of every day. Moms usually have to tightrope a sometimes unrealistic number of hats to acquire a certain level of success for her and her family. Society’s dictations does not make this expectation any easier to take; “SuperMom” is dubbed the “best” mom, able to leap tots and Legos in a single bound.
The dry pill to swallow, however, is a fear of a certainty of identity loss. When so much of her life is thrust to other people, other enterprises, other resources, day in and day out, the likelihood of self-shrinkage becomes reality. Her base identity of “human” or “woman,” only her bare core, remains, sometimes prompting a new or renewed questioning of purpose, much in the way of an adolescent entering the confusions of her teens. Or prompting an anxiety-driven level of destruction.
We see it everyday.
Moms must be empowered, celebrated, adored…most mothers are their family’s checkbook, nurse, and telescope. Moms pray and soothe and encourage. They strengthen and build, mold and pry, all to start over the masterpiece tomorrow. Most do not stop; most moms cannot stop. It is her interest, her intrigue, her power, and her destiny to…sculpt.
In my home, I am a mammalogist. I study the species of my children, monitoring their existences and growth patterns. I am intensely aware of their evolutions and anatomies. I study how they interact with their environments and with one another, then motivate active recommendations.
I am Head of Visitor Services. I ensure that my home is as close to presentation mode to guests as possible around the push-toys and cracker crumbs and straddled shoes. My home is my museum; my museum is an extension of my kinship.
I am a chemical oceanographer. While monitoring the bodies of water my children bathe, swim, and play in, I balance poor water temperature levels and unearth distressing foreign materials. The composition of this element is essential to overall safety and happiness.
I am a buyer. Taking great care in the frequent selection of clothing and footwear for the children, I also delegate diaper changing and coordinate the overall organization of these materials removal or donation when they no longer fit.
I am the sole governess of my estate. I sweep through my home to ensure that cleanliness has been performed and that the children are properly formally enlightened and schooled.
I am the executive chef, regardless of my lack of enthusiasm regarding this career. I supervise kitchen inventory and make educated suggestions for the repair or replacement of equipment. If food purchases require pick-up or shopping, I perform those tasks peacefully. However, delegating to my sous chef and maximizing the productivity of all involved is the preferred choice.
I am the emcee. I make introductions; I handle the crowd. I run the party. I host, I entertain, I keep time. I am the catalyst, the focal point; I construct the atmosphere of welcome, the representation, of my family.
I am much more than just “mom.” The roles are difficult, but valued. And I tip my many stacked hats to all moms this weekend and always.