.SOMETIMES RAW.

Mother’s Day is on Sunday, May 12th. Today, my son’s school invited to a Mother’s Day Tea Party which turned out to be such a lovely event. I may have wiped away a tear or two when the kids sang songs and told us moms why they love us. My son is the sunshine in my life. Even though he is a pain in the butt sometimes, I love him unconditionally. With his birth and like a slap in the face, I became a mom. I can honestly say that I did not enjoy every minute of it but overall, it is one of the best things that ever happened to me. I am a mom. Mothers are good forces of nature. Mothers have to be very strong at times.

My mom is wonderful. She amazes me daily with her steely refusal to give in to daily life’s struggles and sorrows that affect her. She holds her head high and helps my siblings and I even when her own heart hurts and when she questions things we do. She battles on and on, a soldier through and through. Seemingly without getting tired – unless one really asks.

My Mother wiped away my tears when kids threw rocks at me, threw me off my bicycle or beat me at the Junebug bushes while my friends and I collected insects to put them in a jar. My Mother was there and protected me and told me that they do not know any better. That nothing really matters. To be strong. That this is all forgotten tomorrow.

Who was there when I struggled through High School? When my grades were bad? When someone had to explain mathematics and (bio)chemistry to me? When I hung out with kids who were not the “right influence”? My Mother.

Who was always there for me in times of need? Heartbreak? Whenever I cried and did not want to leave home to study at Police Academy at a young age? When I rather wanted to stay in my bed, bed sheets pulled up to my nose? When sometimes pressure was so bad I could not breathe? Who kissed and touched my head when I was sad? Who always gave me unconditional love? You did, mom.

Who gave me life and life again? When I was sad and did not see a way out of a situation? Who gave herself away so many times trying to make me feel better. Trying to make sense and explaining it all. Who never gave up the fight for my struggles in life and who I am when I thought it is all so pointless and useless?

You, mom.

Who kept on giving even though she was tired at points? Who took care of my son when I was so tired but she had to go to work? Who spoke to me for hours on the phone when I went through a very hard breakup?

You, mom.

Who, to this day, knows when I am hurt? When I am saddened? Face down in the dirt? When I feel like a failure?

My beautiful, precious and dear heart mom.

When my mom is worn out and her heart is torn, she keeps on helping. When she is sad and her mind half mad of anger, she keeps on fighting for me and supporting.

Mom,

all this to say, this is a love letter to you. I am making a toast to the incredible mother you are, in essence, one of the most crucial elements in the lives of me and my siblings. Here is to you! And thank you. Unconditional love to you. Because of you and your love for me I know what the word “unconditional” actually means and feel it for my son.

Happy Mother’s Day.

“I always read a lot. I read the same amount, no matter what season it is. I read every night. When I’m on book tour, I’m on airplanes all the time, so I’m always reading. People say, ‘How do you have time to read?’ Oh, come on, it’s simple! You’re single and you don’t watch television.”— John Waters

I love to read because it makes me happy. Whenever someone asks me how I can find time to read I most likely always answer, “Because I make time for it.” I wrote about how to read more here already but I have some more stuff to add. For example:

Carry a book with you at all times.

“Because I was carrying the book around all the time, I pulled it out all the time: On the subway, walking down the block to get groceries…” – Clive Thompson https://br5.bookriot.com/quarterly/bkr07/amp/

I carry a book with me wherever I go. Pick up at my son’s school? Book is in my purse. I call it my emergency book. You never know where you end up, what will happen or if you do not want to talk to people. Grocery store lines, waiting in offices, at traffic lights, killing some time, lunch breaks; to carry a book with me is my version of disaster preparedness. Like doomsday preppers. I know someone who watches it with a passion.

Read and date several books at the same time. Then decide which one you want to go with. Have a book next to your bed. Go to bed early and read in bed. Wake up early and read two pages before you get out of bed.

Stop reading books you do not like.

“There is only one way to read, which is to browse in libraries and bookshops, picking up books that attract you, reading only those, dropping them when they bore you, skipping the parts that drag – and never, never reading anything because you feel you ought, or because it is part of a trend or a movement. Remember that the book which bores you when you are twenty or thirty will open doors for you when you are forty or fifty – and vice-versa. Don’t read a book out of its right time for you.” – Doris Lessing

If you don’t “feel” a book and get nothing out of it, just put it down and pick up another one. (For me: Infinite Jest!) There are so many great books out there. Find the ones that make you happy. I give a book usually fifty pages to catch my interest. Stop reading what society decides you should have read by now. Like 100 books you should have read by now. Do not take Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina in your beach bag to Cancun. You are not going to read it. Sometimes a book is just not for you. Don’t read a book to just impress others. “Look at me, I am reading Kierkegaard on the bus. I am very smart.” Read what you love. I know you will love this one.

Visit your local independent bookstores and libraries.

“You must go to the library and fall in love.” – Ray Bradbury

My son and I love to go to the local library. Or to Ottawa’s best and most well-curated selection or used books and independent bookstore, The Black Squirrel. It is glorious to spend time browsing and shopping at this place. My son cannot read yet but he loves to explore and discover. These days he is into Star Wars. However, he is afraid of The Hobbit because of Gollum and National Geographic books in French are used to cut out animal pictures for art projects. I know the most amazing librarian who knows exactly what 5-year-old boys love to “read” because she shows interest and asks my son what he is into these days. Browsing through indie bookstores is an adventure because it is the serendipity of the stacks combined with the magical discoveries of book-treasures that often happens when I least expect it.

Talk about books.

“Read the books you love, tell people about authors you like, and don’t worry about it.” – Neil Gaiman

Talking about books will give you more ideas about new books to read and interesting conversations. Just ask what others are reading. Maybe keep track of what you are reading. For example, I signed up at the website Goodreads. When a book really inspired me, I wrote about it on my blog. Share the books you love in whatever way you can.

“Look, mommy, I drew a man with very long and skinny legs!”#dirtymindsthinkalike 

The other day, I waited patiently with the other moms to pick up our children after school when my son ran toward me to proudly present his latest painting of a man with very skinny legs. “You just have to laugh about it all and enjoy every minute. Time flies. Soon he will move out”, one mom said. 

Nothing makes me feel quite as overwhelmed as the words “enjoy every minute”. Like what do you mean? Enjoy every minute, while my kid walks through that huge puddle on the playground and cries because he is soaking wet? Right now, when he flushed his underwear down the toilet to see what happens? Right now, when he tells me he played with his poo in the toilet, smelled it and cleaned his hands on his pants?  Do you mean when I made supper and he cried because the food smelled or looked weird? Do you mean when I cleaned the toilet and I wondered (again) how pee can be under the bathtub? I mean, I do it all because I have to, I mostly love it and it is worth it to me. I made that decision to have a child so I take responsibility. But to enjoy every minute is a different type of pressure. To be honest, there are many minutes I feel very annoyed or tired. 

I think all moms can relate: raising a child is hard work but that is okay. It is okay to admit it. It is also okay to cry and vent about it from time to time. That does not make me a bad mom and it also does not mean that I love my child any less. He is everything to me. But I have limits, too which makes me human. I do not try, I DO the best I can with the situation given right now. 

I did not enjoy all the sleepless nights that lasted for about 9 months after my son was born. I could fall asleep sitting or standing up anywhere because I was so exhausted. I gained a bunch of weight, was anxious, a bit depressed, and overwhelmed but sometimes I wish I could turn back time. 

The other day when I went for a run, I saw a friend of mine with her newborn baby in a stroller. I stopped to say hi and asked how she was doing and she started to cry. Completely exhausted. I most certainly did not tell her to enjoy every minute. We did not get to have a real chat because her son started to cry and she needed to go home. But I will tell her and would tell any mom with a newborn child to just breathe and that it is all going to turn out fine. I would tell her that it is okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes because all mothers feel this and that she is a fantastic mom. I would tell her that she does not need to question every single move and that it is okay to cry and scream sometimes. I would tell her that motherhood is insane on so many levels and that we are constantly reminded that we are becoming someone we did not use to be. That transition was very hard for me to fathom. 

I would tell her to never lose herself. To take your child everywhere. Go out. Socialize. Meet friends, especially those without kids. Talk about anything but kids with them. I would tell her that she is enough. That it is okay to microwave your baby’s food. That you do not need to feed your child organic food only and that it is not necessary to sign them up for baby yoga or baby-anything. It is okay for the laundry to pile up for some time and that it is more than okay to not enjoy every minute being a mother. I would tell her to always speak how she really feels about being a mother to other moms. I met some awesome friends that way. 

I consider my son “an easy child”. Usually, I don’t have issues with him. He is a good, smart, polite kid but I still don’t enjoy every minute. Not even close. Sometimes I struggle really hard to be present. There was never a time when I pick him up from school and he is tired and annoyed by everything and I thought “this is so enjoyable”. What I thought was, PLEASE, UNIVERSE, SEND ME MORE ENERGY TO GET ALL THIS DONE SO I WILL NOT LOSE MY MIND. Of course, what all mothers usually remember are the highlights and we conveniently forget all the sweat and tears that come with parenting. The pain of childbirth or C-section recovery? Totally forgotten, right? When I remember how my newborn son snuggled in my arms after I fed him, my heart breaks. It was the best and most wonderful time. 

Hey… don’t get all squishy now. Remember with me just for one second your sore nipples. The sleepless nights and the tears of exhaustion. Remember all the messy parts of raising a child, especially if you are a single parent. Remember the constant-constant of being a mother and that you will be a mother forever. 

Sometimes, and I said this already, I wish I could slow time down a bit. Especially when my son asks me to measure again how much taller he has gotten in the last couple of months. In my opinion, he is worth every tear, every struggle and every glass of wine. He is worth it all. When all these sweet childhood moments are gone, I know I will wish for them all back. But I keep in mind that it is hard, too and that is okay. 

While I put his snowsuit up to dry because it was soaking wet he asked me to kiss him goodnight again. This was the time when I saw his latest Sharpie-drawing on his pillow and bedframe which actually looks pretty epic.