The Steely Sweetness of Motherhood

 "Two Mothers" by Leon Maxime Faivre 1888
(I added the undies for a facebook post)

It's amazing the transformation that takes place when your first baby is placed in your arms.  Whether you were the quiet girl, prissy girl, bitchy girl.... any kind of girl before becoming a mom, we all turn into the woman in this 1888 painting, "Two Mothers" by Leon Maxime Faivre.

I stumbled upon this painting while googling something for a client and it caught me.  I looked at it and instantly felt a connection.  I went back to work, but I needed to see it again. I found a better version and looked at it some more and I felt like she was me.  The image I've shared here is one that I added undies to so I could share it with my friends on facebook. (they frown on boobies and little boy parts).  But if anything, it makes her even more me... and here's why:

At first glance I could relate in that I often look this disheveled when I leave the home with my kids.  But beyond that was the transformation I mentioned, that moment you gaze on your child's face and you know you will love them and tenderly hold them forever - but also that you would go to any length to protect them. You magically become this ball of mush, yet as strong and resilient as steel at the same time.

I love how she holds her children in one arm, curving her body around them, while the other arm grips an ax ready to battle the shadowy beast approaching from distance. In the easy living days of the 21st century, I rarely have to battle actual beasts (though we have had a bear in our yard... so maybe some day) but she is the perfect metaphor for all I do protect my children from - broken hearts, bedroom boogie monsters, dangerous strangers, the list goes on.

The beauty of motherhood - or maybe the super power of motherhood, is that we gain the ability to harness a steely, rage-ful strength toward an enemy, while still projecting that enduring love and tenderness to our kids.

I also love that this painting makes me feel the role of a mother has not changed since the caveman days.  As a mom I fret over whether I'm doing everything right, I think most moms feel the same way.  This painting gives me hope... if we protect and love our kiddos with the same passion as our cave woman ancestors the human race will survive until neon pink bras and cartoon undies look as old as an animal hide dress.

The Mental Disorganization Known as Motherhood

Every year my New Year's resolutions have a similar theme, 2011: Simplify... 2012: Organize... 2013: Simplify (again, for real this time!!).  But with a business and a pack of kids... things just can not really be simple, and it would take more brain/will/physical power than I possess to organize this giant casserole that is my life.  So for 2014, I decided to get real, "Realistic" actually.  I made it facebook official that my resolution this year is -- to be realistic. 

Living in the boonies, and not really having another adult to converse with for most of the day gives you lots of time to think, observe and analyze your life.  I ponder our casserole life in the shower, while trying to fall asleep, while being captain minivan on yet another adventure to Target.  Metaphorically I consider things like does our life casserole have too many noodles? Should I have used rice?  Does it need more liquid? Green beans or peas? or corn?!  Cream of Mushroom or Cream of Chicken?  There are so many variables and potential outcomes, it's mind boggling to the point of being a mental disorder -- "The Mental Disorganization Known as Motherhood" or MDKM. 

For just one brief window, I'd like to have it all together.  I'd love to sink into the couch with a glass of wine and say to myself "It's all done and practically perfectly! Bravo!" 

Instead I curl into my couch corner with my planner and notepad and make lists and highlight things and circle things and trace things over and over.  And when I've got a good stack of lists and a glass too much wine, I may accidently let them mingle and make baby lists.  "Pack the suitcase" turns into a 6 person chart with checkboxes of clothing and personal hygiene items.  "Grocery shop" turns into a full notebook page of planned meals and groceries needed organized by department and aisle (as best as I can remember).    It sounds like I've really got it together, but making the list is the easy part. Remembering to bring it to the store... whole 'nother story. In fact, even when I do remember to use them, the drilled down lists just make a simple task like "Pack the suitcase" seem like climbing Mount Everest.  A stubborn case of the MDKM.

As a mom your head has to be in the full "ON" position, all the time.  You have to remember every school event and deadline, lunch money, nature club, homework, favorite shirt needed for favorite shirt day, that the kids need to drink Kool-Aid for dinner because there's only enough for breakfast cereal... why do we live 20 minutes from the nearest gas station?!  And no matter how many lists or good intentions, you'll forget something -- why just today I walked my three oldest kids to the bus.  The youngest is 4, the temperature was 9 degrees and snow with high winds was the forecast.  Yet, he's waiting for the bus without a hat or scarf!  (He had 2 pairs of mittens though!)  Luckily he has a hood on his jacket and I gave him my scarf to wear -- but how did I not notice that until we were waiting for the bus?  Probably because I spent the whole morning making sure everyone was dressed "Do you have socks?" "Do you have socks?" "Do you have socks" Socks. Check.  Jake eat the crunch part of the Lucky Charms too! Luke drink your milk!! Layna where's your hairbrush... and what time is it --- we've got 5 minutes!!  MDKM.   

So "being realistic" seems like a resolution I can keep.  Realistically one of the kids will not be dressed right for the weather.  I may have to write the lunch money check while running my kids down the driveway (it's long!) for the bus.  I might pack my son's sandwich in the Disney Princess sandwich keeper thing and I might not have a clean house, ever - not even for a tiny bit. But being realistic and admitting that makes me feel a little like I have my crap together, allowing me to accept my Mental Disorder Known as Motherhood diagnosis and treat it frequently with wine and snuggles from the kids and hubby.  Realistically, 2014 should be just fine.