The Business End of Drama

Today I was told that I was a great butt-wiper.

No, I don't work in a Convalescent Home. The aforementioned high praise came straight from my three year old. Although she is fully potty-trained and has been wiping herself with some skill for many, many months now, she has recently decided that she would prefer that I do it. Well, lucky me. But that's how it is with kids. You will find yourself doing all kinds of things that you would have never imagined doing for another living soul. When you have children who are prone to drama, the requests become increasingly insane. "Here Mommy, I didn't like this Tic-Tac, you finish it", or "Mommy, Mommy, something is happening to my eye!!" (then when nothing is found to be wrong), "Mommy, Mommy something is happening to my other eye!!", or even, "Mommy, my butt itches, can you scratch it?" Nice.

I am so grateful to have my two beautiful, amazing, insanely articulate girls. They light up my day, even when I am completely in the dark. They probably deserve better than me, but I feel certain every Mother thinks that at some point. My Mom, on the other hand, has always been amazing. If she ever had a bad parenting day, I cannot recall it. I can remember getting mad at her for some misperceived injustice she caused me at the time, but now I can totally see she was always right. I hope she never had a day where she sat at the kitchen table, head in her hands, and wept over mistakes made in the care and keeping of me. I am sure she did, but she should know that those tears were never necessary, because she is quite possibly the best Mom in the entire world - then and now. And such a Mom should never have to worry that what they are doing for their child(ren) isn't enough. Although I think the broader message is that, even if there were struggles, they were all unbeknownst to me. There is no greater gift you can give your children than the gift of blissful ignorance. As I begin to face the trials of my own making, I hope I can take a page from her book and never let my girls see my disappointment, sadness or dispair. I actually have much, much hope that these things won't play as big a role in my life as they might want to. Because I have an amazing support structure. Thank God there is a business end for all my drama...

Do you remember cheerleaders in high school? They would do all those crazy human pyramid structures...And do you remember those girls at the bottom of the pyramid? They were always the bigger, stronger, more hulking girls. They would be responsible for supporting the shorter, lighter, more nimble girls. Although I am a well-porportioned woman, neither short nor light, I feel like one of those cheerleaders on the top of the pyramid, getting ready to do my double back-flip high into the air, to the thunderous applause of the croud, and land safely in the arms of the support cheerleader below. My Mom, who on her worst day is a size 2...petite, delicate, non-hulking...is all of those support cheerleaders wrapped into one super-human mega-cheerleader. She has always caught me. Always allowing me to have the spotlight, the cheers of the crowd, never once seeking it out for herself when it came to me. It is my fervent hope that one day I can be like her. She may be diminutive to the casual observer, but she is more strong than anyone can ever know...That strength is what keeps me in the air...That and the hope that I can one repay her for the role she has played in my life. The support. The base of the pyramid. The one things that keeps the whole structure from falling apart. I hope I can offer that up to her when she needs it the most. I hope I can pass her lessons on to my girls. I hope that one day I can be worthy. Until then, I will continue to flip, flip, flip...And be eternally grateful for my support, because without it I would come crashing to the ground...