Mothers

My Mothers Day post....yes, I realize it's August. Pregnancy....enough said.

Sometime in April as I sat at my desk nearly going cross eyed with some excel reports for work, I decided to move my operation downstairs and turn on some trash TV. This usually distracts me from thinking of all my to do's and I can finish my work.  Sadly the Kardashians were too busy getting their hair done and TLC had a marathon of What Not To Wear on.  Since I could star on that show I usually try and avoid it. 

Still flipping I came across a documentary on HBO, Ethel.  http://youtu.be/a9QuQB5TMiM. 

At first I didn't have a clue who that was. I quickly read the info, Ethel Kennedy, married to Robert F. Kennedy. Ok, I'm in. 

The documentary was produced and filmed by her youngest daughter, Rory.  Rory interviewed her mother, Ethel, and siblings (almost all ten), giving a history of her mothers life. The story of Ethel Kennedy wasn't an easy story to tell. Ethel has had many hardships, losing her husband, a son, brother in law, and so on. 

As I sat and watched her life unfold, I wept. Not because of the losses she suffered, and they were great, because she is one of the best examples of a mother I've ever witnessed.

Shortly before RFK was killed Ethel had learned she was pregnant with their 11th child.  Ethel Kennedy never strayed from the parenting ideals she and her husband had set forth. When her children wanted to learn to swim, she taught them.  When they wanted to learn to ski, play football, sail, ride horses, she taught them.  Their home was often filled with many animals, they did not live on a farm, yet she had just about every kind of farm animal.  She wanted her children to learn to take care of animals.  She'd take her children to Capitol Hill so they could learn how hard their father worked for his country. 

In the face of tragedy her faith never wavered. Each night the family knelt together in prayer. Ethel planted seeds of love and service in the hearts of her children and nurtured them to grow strong. 

This is the mother I'd like to be. Strong and immovable in faith. Dedicated to serving others. The ability to use my experiences to teach my children everything they'll need to learn to be successful in this life. Most importantly to love. 

Five

Somewhere along the line our Addi turned 5.  I've  owed this post to my sweet, cuddly Addi girl.

Addi turned five in style. She got to invite two friends to see Disney on Ice and dress up like a princess in the process. She loved it. All the girls sat on the edge of their seats and didn't move. They screamed with glee as their favorite characters skated on to the ice.  We filled their tummy's with pizza and colorful princess icees.  Our favorite part was the suite we got to enjoy. (Thanks Beth!)

Addison is our sugary sweet girl. She loves her blankie and still cuddles with mom and dad, sometimes nightly. She absolutely loves to swim and hang with her friends, Addison and Charlotte. They are quite the trio. Addison also loves to dance. She auditioned and was chosen to be in a special group at her dance studio. She'll working on her skills in this group and learning a special dance to be performed at a big dance show in the spring.

Addison is a very loving sister. She loves to give Andrew thousands of kisses. (He screams, "top it Addi!")  That never really stops her. Addi loves to play with Karissa and never takes any of her guff. Addison has been known to throw punches and pull Karissa's hair if Karissa isn't playing nice.

It's hard to believe my little love will be off to Kindergarten in a couple weeks. She's so excited to be going to school. She's not sure if she wants to work on her letters though.

Daddy and I love you so much Addi. We never want you to stop being kind and loving. We know you will be a great big sister to the new baby.

Love, Momma

Oh, and by the way Miss Addi, you never met a candy you didn't like and never met a fruit or vegetable you did. You will always be our chocolate chip pancake girl.

As parents have we really come that far?

I've been thinking a lot about this lately.  Last night I read an article that a friend posted to facebook and I in turn reposted.  This article particularly resonated with me.  I've read the post from Hands Free Mama in the past and wanted to be sure this time I put some of her practices in place in my own life.

The morning after I gave birth to Karissa, I sat in my hospital room unable to stop gazing at this miracle I'd been given.  Then I was hit by the crushing blow of responsibility.  It was now my job to raise her, teach her everything she needed to know to survive life on earth and beyond.  The weight of that responsibility sat heavy on my shoulders.  (And still does.)

I knew right away what I kind of parent I didn't want to be.  I did not want to be like my mother.  Don't get me wrong, my mother was incredibly talented and had a great sense of humor.  When things were good, they were very good and when things were bad, they were very bad.  My biggest fear and challenge was to be better than that. To stop the cycle of judgement and ridicule that my mother had been given by her mother and my Grandmother had been given by her mother.

My sisters and I have have discussed this and length and decided my mother did the best she could with the information she had.

When I was a freshmen in High School, I decided to make a cute boy I sat next to in English class some chocolate chip cookies.  As soon as I got home I asked my mom for permission and started to make the cookies.  She sat in the kitchen working on a sewing project and called out "tips" on making the best cookies.  I was told that if the cookies tasted horrible and I wasted the ingredients I would have to replace everything.  I read the recipe and started on the dough.  The yelling started almost immediately, I was doing it all wrong.  All semester I tried and tried to make good cookies.  Each time I made cookies, I got a critique that was never favorable from my mother.  She actually never stood and showed my how to do it.  Just gave me "tips" on how to make them better next time. 

Luckily the boy never thought they were bad, or at least he never admitted it.  In the end, I guess I can thank my mother because now I make the best chocolate chip cookies. 

I never want to be that mother that believes parenting is berating your child and verbally beating them into obedience.  What purpose does that serve?  So you can yell and tear someone down, great.  Now you have a child who cowers in front of adults and has no self esteem.  Does that make you feel better as a person and most importantly a parent?  Are we choosing to be better parents than our parents or choosing to be just like them? 

There are so many ways our society has progressed and so many ways it hasn't.  With the monumental information available at our finger tips, why do we choose status quo? 

Today there are high school students who can't read face clocks.  Woman are still judged by their size and not their intellect.  Children are pushed into social categories our society and we as parents have created for them.  Can't we do better?

That morning at West Hills Hospital, I made a promise.  Never, ever to become that kind of mother.  To this day I've been pretty much successful.  That promise has been challenged almost every single day.  Some people have called my girls, "Sassy" and others have praised me for raising children who are confident and not afraid to speak their mind.  I hope that I am raising children that will make the world a better place.  Children that will stand up for what is right.  Children that will love their mother for letting them be children.