Thursday, July 18, 2013

A mother's work is never done

Today started out as 'one of those days'.  At 5:47 A.M., my sixteen year old son jarred me from a sound sleep with, "Mom, I overslept."  A quick glance at my cell phone screen confirmed it.  He had exactly 13 minutes to get ready and arrive at his pick up point for his detassling gig...some ten plus miles away.   Oh yeah, that wasn't happening.  His first instinct was to chuck the whole day and head back to bed.  But the responsible mother in me didn't find that plan to be prudent.  A job is something to be taken seriously after all...something to be committed to...something not to be missed when a full 13 minutes are at your disposal.

So after 'encouraging' said son as he half-heartedly made a couple calls to find out his destination for the day...which I could have done much more quickly and efficiently than he, but which I felt was best if he did himself..you know, to learn to handle his own business (oh the day when this dream comes to fruition!!)... I hurriedly made him a lunch while he got himself dressed and ready to go.  Of course, had I simply got him out the door and made my way back to the comfort of my own bed, there would be no tale to tell.

Flashback to yesterday when our oldest son called and asked to borrow a vehicle since his is temporarily out of commission.  Now follow me here...Since my husband in currently donning a plaster cast on his driving foot, we have, theoretically, an 'extra' car and are always willing to help out our kids when we can.  But my husband had offered his car...the nice cool car...to our 16 year old to use for the next couple weeks, so  we had to offer our oldest son his younger brother's vehicle to drive with the condition that he return it last night.

Normally, it wouldn't have mattered so much that the car be returned immediately.  But, because my husband had a doctor's appointment today to which I had to drive him in my car...AND... because my husband's friend was going to pick up the nice cool car and meet us after the doctor's appointment to drive them to a sprint car race tonight, our 16 year old would need HIS car this morning to make that 6am pickup for work that he was now late for.  But guess what?  The oldest son DIDN'T return the car last night.

So the mother in me did what I like to think the mother in most women would do.  I griped about how irresponsible said children were...how if the youngest went to bed earlier, he wouldn't have overslept...how if the oldest had brought the car back, I'd be sleeping again already...and how all this annoyed and inconvenienced me greatly (I paraphrase, as you other mother's out there probably knew already).  And then, I threw on a pair of sandals, smoothed my hair down and grabbed my car keys.

I actually managed to deliver my youngest son to the field where he was working ahead of the bus's arrival. Score one for mom.  Then, I hastily sent a few motherly text messages to my oldest son...his very own unpleasant wake up call.  Minus one for mom.  He apologized...so did I.  All was well.  Except, now I had a 16 year old in the fields with no means of transportation to get back home and a husband with a doctor's appointment at roughly the same time said 16 year old would need picked up.  Wonderful. (Denote deep sarcasm.)

And so began a barrage a calls and text messages to try and get my proverbial ducks in a row.  I won't go through the whole litany, but let's just say, it was no small feat to get everyone's transportation needs met today.  And by the time I managed to get a fully functional plan in place, I was teetering on the edge of making my husband late for his 10:30am haircut...just another thing to work into my crazy morning.

So a quick shower, a head of halfway dried hair and make-up-less face later, my husband, knee scooter and all, and I were finally out the door ourselves.  But again, the mom in me just had to make sure the plan was being correctly implemented.  So I asked my husband so send one single text to our daughter-in-law to make sure we were all on the same page.  To which, my husband acted utterly annoyed and said something to the effect that he would be glad when we had this all this taken care of.

 Are you kidding me?  I thought.  "Are you kidding me?"  I said even more emphatically than I had thought it.  "WE"...I don't remember "WE" doing anything all morning long.  I remember "ME" doing it all.  So now he has to type and send one single solitary text and it's a "WE"?  "Just send the text."  I reiterated.  "The mom in me will feel better."  A sigh, a roll of the eyes and a few pecks on the keyboard later, and finally, the mom in me did feel better.

I just wonder why the mom in we women never seems to be able to go completely off duty.  Even when our kids are grown and have kids of their own, we still feel compelled to mother them, to bend over backwards to accommodate them, to put ourselves out so they don't have to.  I guess it's true...a mother's work is never done.  And quite frankly, I'm glad it's true....because even if I have to make a hundred 6am dashes to corn fields or make a million phone calls to get one little duck back safely to the nest, it's all worth it.  Being a mom is the best job ever.

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