Mothers Day is a fine time to celebrate moms. I certainly owe my mother much – but I hope I don’t just celebrate her one day a year. I hope no matter how old I become, my actions show that I am grateful for all she’s done and for all she’s been to me.
Sitting here, sleepless, I can’t help thinking of my walk down the road of motherhood. So far, it’s been the journey of a lifetime. So today, I don’t want to celebrate me, I want to celebrate the being that made it all possible – the little girl that turned me from nothing special into a mom. It is to her that I am grateful, for because of her, I get the chance to experience life on a whole new level. I get to see things and do things and learn things that I otherwise would have missed. It’s a pretty special thing to be someone’s mother. I take the job very seriously.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – as parents we have the right to believe that our children are the most special, the most precious, the most beautiful, wonderful, intelligent, funny, perfect little beings on the planet. It is our right. And you know what? We are all correct in thinking so. Kids are awesome. Maybe everyone we meet doesn’t want to hear us drone on and on about our perfect little darlings, but that doesn’t change the fact that we are allowed to think they are! I’m no exception, and I’m one of the proudest mamas out there. No one can tell me my kid isn’t perfect, because even when she’s rotten she’s still perfect. To me. 😉
When A was born she gave me a beautiful gift. One I didn’t think I would ever have. The chance to be someone’s mom. I can’t think of a greater gift. I can think of nothing that has been as important a job, or that has taught me as much, or has filled my heart and completed me the way being a mom has. In my chaotic, crazy, mixed up world, it’s the one constant that holds everything else together.
I don’t always know what to do. Sometimes I say the wrong things. Sometimes I do the wrong things. Yet somehow, at the end of the day, it all works out. The relationship I share with my daughter is a special one. She inspires me every day to be the best I can be. Being ADD/ADHD has its challenges. It has challenges that others can never understand. Until you can spend a day in the head of someone with ADD, there is just no adequate way to explain it. The constant noise just rumbling around inside your own head – the haze that is conversations or tasks that we should have remembered – the struggle to keep up, which really isn’t about keeping up at all, but about slowing our minds down enough to be present – those things, and many more, are just part of going through the day with ADHD. It’s frustrating sometimes to not be able to explain that to a “normal” person. One of the best things about our household, even when it seems like a curse, is that we each get it. We understand each other. We can support one another. We are an unstoppable duo of mass chaos that has forgotten to do much more than we ever remembered.
I am a better person because A loves me. It’s as simple as that. I want to do better to be better – just to be worthy of the love, trust, and belief she has in me. She’s always been my biggest fan, and the person that believes me to be much greater than I truly am. It’s humbling to have someone put that much faith in you. I will do the best I can to be the rock she needs and the soft place to land when she falls. I can’t protect her from the world, I wouldn’t want to. We learn from our mistakes, and we learn from the good and the bad in the world. It’s important. But I will always be that shoulder to cry on. I will always be the 2 a.m. sounding board, and the safe place to vent. I will also be the biggest supporter, and the one to celebrate the victories.
I can’t imagine my life without A – without the chance to be a mom. I cannot fathom not getting to feel this fullness; this overflowing heart, this pride in another human being. I love her flaws and all. I love her unconditionally, with no boundaries, no limits, no price tag, no conditions. When she looks in the mirror and all she sees is ugly – when she fails to see her own worth – when she lets her fears and depression and the feelings of inadequacy take over, my biggest wish is that some day she will see in herself what I see. I wish nothing more than for her to see the beautiful smile, the kind eyes, the big heart, her talent and her creativity. I want her to see that living with ADHD isn’t a curse, that even when it makes life difficult, it is only because her brain isn’t wired like other people’s – it doesn’t mean she is lazy or unintelligent, or forgetful or careless. And that NOT thinking like everyone else is actually a beautiful gift. It’s a gift she can run with, when she can only accept it. It is a gift that will allow her to have more tolerance for others, more patience and understanding. It will allow her to know that disabilities are not always visible, and she will have an understanding for those who struggle worse than she. It is a gift that will allow her find creative solutions. Sometimes it is difficult to get past bouncing from thing to thing, to handle the boredom, or even to remember to brush your teeth, and those things can be extremely frustrating. But what life is without challenges of some sort? We all battle something. Different things, to be sure, but we all have our weaknesses, or illnesses, our hardships and our set backs. It’s what we do with them that makes a difference. I want her to see that SHE can make a difference. She has the power to choose happiness and to choose how to live her own life. That is my wish.
Today I can think of nothing I would rather be than A’s mom. It’s been a beautiful journey since the moment it began. There are great adventures in store for us, and I wouldn’t want to share them with anyone else. Happy Mother’s Day to the beautiful girl that made me the mom I am today.