Wow-What-a-Mom!

Do you work? Three words. Simple enough question. Do you work? Words asked of me as I introduced myself to the only woman I did not know in a group of friends. Do you work?

“No.” I said no! One short and sweet syllable: no. What an idiot! I sat there like a bump-on-a-log and said no. A mother of four young men still living at home while they attend a local college and work through school should have said, “I’ve worked every single second for 25 years, performing endless jobs which no one happened to pay me for!” But did I say all that? Heck no!

To my no, this woman said, “That’s great.”

That’s great? What does that mean? That it is really great, or that I am being placated? Not sure. And I didn’t care to pursue the matter. I failed Everymom. I did not speak up for her; I did not speak up for me.

Next time, here’s what I’m going to say: “Yes. Yes, I do – have for 25 years, raising four sons, and now those sons, those gold stars on my mom resume, are working their ways through college while I, their mom, carve out a newer, improved life for myself. I attend daily Mass each morning, and ask God what He wants me to do, and I try to do it.

“I also happen to be copy editor and columnist for a magazine written by moms for moms. And I recently joined CatholicMom.com as a weekly columnist. I write two blogs at my own Web site, and try to give God to those who cross my path.

“I have written three books, and two of them are under consideration with a publisher right now.”

Wouldn’t my imagined soliloquy have gone over like a you-know-what in a punchbowl?

But really, ladies, let’s become a little more evolved, shall we? Let’s not ask that question of other women. Don’t all of us know what a mom does – how incredibly much she does? Instead of, “Do you work?” how about, “Do you work outside the home?” And if asked the dreaded question yourself, politely reply, “I sure do!”

Make no excuses for being “just a mom.” Just-a-Mom is a mythical creature anyhow; none exist on this planet. Think more along the lines of Wow-What-a-Mom! God’s multi-faceted prism of darkness-conquering light. How’s that for a job description?

~ Maureen
First published at CatholicMom.com.

A happy little P.S. - A week ago I attended a bridal shower for my niece-to-be, and was, of course, asked THE question. I was ready! I sounded good! :)

Here's to the Future Me (and You!)

Was just over at www.faithandfamily.com and heard of a Web site that allows you to write an e-mail to yourself in the future. You write it, and it flies around in cyberspace until whatever date you specify. Awfully neat idea, I think. Try it. Might be fun! Heeeeere's the site: www.FutureMe.org.

~ Maureen :)

The Invisible Mom Bond

How to describe the feeling in a mother’s heart as she watches her child carted off to parts unknown behind restricted hospital doors? His name is called, and off my son walks…alone. Doesn’t seem to matter if the child is 8 months or 18 years old, the mom feeling is the same and the body involuntarily reacts as tears well, watching him dutifully follow the technician.

I felt an acute sense of physical connection to this child who was once inside of me, a part of me for nine special months. Do we ever truly separate from our children? My son had to swallow the nasty chalky liquid, and lie on the metal table to be scanned, but he wasn’t alone; I was with him. Did he feel me?

I recall the familiar helplessness as my 2-year-old walked down a similar corridor years ago, in his teeny hospital gown, trustingly clutching the nurse’s hand. The same feeling re-occurred later as two more sons needed surgery. Double the dread.

Throughout these last 25 years my sons were hospitalized for a couple three-day stints. There was absolutely no question that I would spend all nights with them – that I was not leaving the hospital until I took them home with me. We were one. I couldn’t have broken that invisible mom bond had I tried; it held me tight.

What must Mary have felt as she watched her Son being carted off to parts unknown? “Helpless” can’t come remotely close, just as stitches and surgeries can’t hold a candle to crucifixion and death. Yet Jesus’ mother stood firm; she stayed with her Son until the end witnessing…feeling…the indescribable abuse.

The invisible mom bond held her close, kept her one with her Child. Jesus felt her strength, and surely was comforted by her presence. This time the Son went Home before the mother, but the mother/Son bond remained unbroken. Each was with the other.

Hopefully, the next time we moms gaze up at Jesus on the crucifix we will no longer see him as being all alone. We’ll see a mother’s love surrounding Him.

~ Maureen :)
Column first published at CatholicMom.com

Faith and Family Small Successes

Why oh why, can something so simple two weeks ago frustrate the heck out of me this week? I cannot make the "button" of Small Successes magically appear on my site, but here are my successes anyway with an added bonus:
1. Went to the gym three times so far this week.
2. Sought the solitude of the beach four times.
3. Began writing a new book.
Bonus*****Didn't throw my laptop out the window in frustration over the difficulties of the Small Successes button!
~ Maureen :)
P.S. Hope you all had many successes of your own this week. Maybe by next week I'll conquer the button once and for all.

The Beach is Mine Again

The beach is mine again. Sand-throwing little kiddies gone to school. Texting teenagers gone to school. Three cheers for school – Hip Hip Hooray! It’s me and the seagulls now. Peaceful. Soothing. Restorative. My summer’s not over – not by a long shot. As long as the sun and the surf show up, I will too. To write. To pray. To be. To be alone.

Maybe this next phase of my life has possibilities after all. I really do not miss school shopping for four sons: clothes, shoes, backpacks, outrageously expensive required calculators. This year I went all-out when I saw notebooks for a quarter. I bought 20. And a few days before college began I bought each of my sons a pen – one pen. That’s it – notebooks and a pen. I think at their ages they are perfectly capable of purchasing the rest. Funny how when parents don’t foot the bill the child suddenly gets along with much less.

I remember when I drove my first car years ago; my parents bought the gas. They gave me a credit card. At about that time self-serve gas stations began popping up. Why on earth would I consider leaving the comfort of my car to pump my own gas? So it was a few pennies less, who cared? Me, that’s who, when the credit card went away. I hauled my cookies out of the car every time! I still do.

It’s a parent/child dance. Was then ~ ever will be.

My children and I “dance” together less frequently these days, but that’s all a part of the game, right? Love ‘em. Teach ‘em. Give ‘em space. Let ‘em grow. Love ‘em. Always love ‘em.

Even the seagulls are more content without hoards of people taking over their turf. Every creature needs space to live as God intended. Moms are no different. Find some space. Take some time for yourself. You’ve survived summer. You deserve it.

~ Maureen :)