To my mother, on Mother’s Day.

 

To my own mother, who I have not yet gotten a card or a gift for because I got boggled down between two children, and working full time, and one of those kids being sick, and school commitments, and softball, and dance classes x 2 all while still trying to maintain a shred of my sanity. (I’ll get her a present so everyone calm down.) The point of all my excuses is: Mom, I get it now.

I get why you would fall asleep reading us stories at night.
I get why sometimes we would go into stores and restaurants and you would complain about the music being to loud. As a parent, all I want is a moment of peace. A moment that is not chaos. A moment when I can just THINK.

I remember days that you would be off work and I would come home to a clean house and I would think, “Ahhhhh. This is nice.” Now I realize what a task that is, to DO ALL THE THINGS on your days off. Clean the house. Do the laundry. Run the errands. Get the groceries. Only to have your kids come home and tear everything apart that you spent all day cleaning. I know what it’s like now to get a fridge full of groceries and to have one kid eat all 8 packs of Jell-O when you turn your head for 5 minutes, and to have the other kid crying because you got them the wrong juice, even though they LIKED that juice last week.

I know what it’s like to have sick kids, that you worry about, that you spend a fortune on prescriptions for, that they won’t take, because they taste yucky.

I know, now, what it’s like to feel like when you never get any sleep, ever. Between getting up early and getting the kids ready and out of the house, and going to work all day, and picking up kids and transporting them to extracurricular activities, and then coming home and bathing, and feeding, and brushing and tucking in, I feel like I could just curl up on the floor and go to sleep, but I can’t. Because there is still more to do. And when those things are done, and I lay down to sleep, I can’t, because I worry. Am I doing enough? Am I doing too little? Are they getting enough fruits and vegetables? Have I paid all the bills? Are they happy? Are they healthy?

I know now what it’s like to want to move heaven and earth to make sure your kids are taken care of. I know now what it’s like to put yourself on the back burner.

So what I want to say is: thank you. Thank you for everything you sacrificed. Your time. Your sanity. Your youth.

Thank you for putting up with me when times were tough, because I know I wasn’t always easy to raise. Thank you for the late nights- the times I woke up crying as a baby, the times I got sick in the middle of the night, the times I put off school projects until the night before, the times when I had slumber parties in which none of us slept and therefore neither did you, and the times that I kept you up late waiting and worrying.

Thank you for being a wonderful grandmother to my daughters. Thank you for being in the delivery room when Bella was born and then going to get me a Icee from Krystal at 4am. Thank you for being strong during the times when I was weak, for being the voice of reason when I was feeling crazy. I won’t list all of these instances now. Maybe one day in my “tell all” book.” Ha.

Thank you for still being a chauffeur and taking an active role in helping raise my children. It truly takes a village. And just thank you for being you, the you that goes on Hatchimal Hunt Christmas 2016 and calls me at 8am while being chased by other crazy women at Target. I can count on you for anything, I can count on you for everything and if I am half the mom to my girls that you are to me, I will be satisfied.

Love, Rachel

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