On being a mother...

As my first "real" mothers' day (according to Ken) approached, I had a unique chance to ponder the meaning of mother this past week. Poor little Luke was sick with a fever, which I was trying to make more comfortable with a nice bath, when I lifted him up to wash him and pulled away with a handful of poop. After yelling for Ken (who very calmly and sweetly accepted the poopy boy and rushed him away to clean him off), I proceeded to fish the remnants out of the tub and then douse the whole thing in bleach. But mid-scoop I paused, poop in hand, and had an epiphany--no one was there to take care of this but me. (except for Ken of course--but as much as he wanted to help, all he could really do was ask what needed to be done and accept instructions) From now on, all of the unsolvable problems and unhealable hurts and undo-able deeds are my responsibility, just as I used to (and still do, as a matter of fact) turn them over to my mother, and the only training I've had to care for and raise successful members of society comes from role models--albeit wonderful ones. What a frightening amount of power to give to someone so untrained and untested.

Happy Mothers' Day from all of us.