A tribute to moms

I am struggling not to let my little corner of cyber space become too syrupy with baby pictures and parental epiphanies. Though I fancy myself an upbeat kinda guy, I realize my cyber-self can sometimes come across as cantankerous and opinionated. I like it that way, and I want it to stay that way. That's what makes for interesting blog reading, or at least that's my cantankerous opinion anyway. Rest assured I will return to my male patterned bitchiness within the next few days, but I feel it necessary, if for no other reason than because the calendar demands it, that I first dedicate a few words to the one who brung us here, Mother.

Funnily enough moments before writing this evening I was clicking through endless arrays of blogs looking for quality stuff to fill in my blog roll and most of what I found worth reading was from those mom bloggers. You know who I'm talking about, and if you're one of them then you know who you are. No sooner than they've wrestled their future soccer player from his car seat in the minivan they go racing in to their computer to write an epistle on their progeny, whether about his homerun, his funny quip, or his latest bowel movement. And you know what? Some of what they write is witty, insightful and often well worth the read. In short, that little write up on Johnny's bowel movement is some funny shit (jeu de mots prétendu). Now frankly I think those mom bloggers, having become somewhat of a cult, do enough self promotion without me throwing them a bone and I've already got some of the best ones on my blogroll, so forgive me if I don't add any more. But so-called "crazy hip blog mamas", this paragraph's for you.

As for mamas closer to my heart, I have to first give a shout out to my own. I'm talking about the woman who took me to every dance recital as a kid and who as recently as today came over at a moment's notice to babysit and change a diaper just so my wife and I could eat in peace. Looking back, my mother taught me so much over the years that I cannot begin to list them all here and give her full credit. However of all of the qualities I have cherished most in my mother and tried to carry on into my own adult life, I would have to say the chart toppers are generosity and politesse. My mother has never been a tree shaker or a chain rattler and yet I have always felt that she has been afforded by all who come into contact with her the highest degree of respectability. This may sound reaching to some, but I credit her for my ability to successfully negotiate numerous interactions with people from social endeavors to real estate transactions just by being kind. My mother taught me that sometimes the squeaky wheel just gets replaced and more often than not a smile is the safer road to take.

Another thing I can't thank my mother enough for is her instilling in me the ability to and the value of reading. One of my favorite activities when I was a kid was being read to by my mother before falling asleep. Many times the story she chose to read was from the Disney Storyland Treasury. The book was older than I was, a hand-me-down from my older brother probably and I still remember the smell of those pages. Other times she would read to me one of those read along classics like The Marvelous Mud Washing Machine or Where Did That Naughty Little Hamster Go? I was also a sucker for The Little Engine That Could. I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed hearing these stories over and over. While it goes back several Mother's Days, I once saved up money and snuck away from my mother in the drugstore to go next door and buy her a gift from the used book store. I was probably nine or so at the time and had no idea what authors she read, but I knew what the covers looked like on her books of choice. I selected a paperback with a woman in torn clothing running away from a castle. It was trash. It was romance. It was just what my mother loved to read. The point is, I associated her with reading. My mother taught me that books weren't something reserved for school. I will forever be thankful to her for that.

Another mom who deserves recognition in my book is -- wonder of wonders -- my mother-in-law. Mothers-in-law get a really bad rap when you think about it, and I'm sure some rightfully deserve it. I worked with a fellow French teacher my first year in the classroom for instance who said to me, "When you get married, marry somebody who's mother has already died . . . and I'm not kidding." Well, I chose to marry someone whose mother was alive and kicking and I couldn't be more grateful. I enjoy chatting (and catting) with my mother-in-law on the phone and in person. Whereas my own mother instilled in me the importance of convention, what I appreciate in my wife's mother is her candor. She is forthright and honest. One of the drawbacks to Southern charm is that one never knows if, behind that drawl, the speaker is being sincere in their kind words or just being Southern. If my Yankee mother-in-law pays you a compliment, you can rest assured it's genuine, and furthermore a rare gem in the rough.

Most recently my wife is the one who joins the list of mothers that have shaped my life. Now she's always been the champion homemaker, and by that I don't mean someone who sits on the couch and watches trash television but someone who turns a house into a soothing inviting place to kick back, enjoy a glass of Pinot Noir and relax at the end o the day. Looking at her with our new daugher you would hardly believe she was the type who worries whether she's heated the bottle to the right temperature, swaddled our baby correctly or is just plain "doing it right." Seemingly effortlessly my wife has gone from sexy jet setter career woman to mother of the year. I'm not just saying that either. She has really impressed me with the warmth and nurturing she has shown this new baby of ours. It never would have dawned on me that a woman so concerned with whether her management skills were up to par or whether her throw pillows were positioned correctly could overnight, just by procreating, become a tender and sheltering mother of all mothers. We're only seven days into this parenting thing and I can already see her taking our daughter to dance recitals, cheering for her at the swim meet and even reading aloud to her I think I can I think I can I think I can I think I can.

Sigmund Freud would reportedly begin his sessions of psychoanalysis by asking his patients to tell him about their mother, the theory being that the relationship one holds with one's mother has great bearing on how one acts as an adult. If I were on Freud's couch, I think I'd have to counter his question and ask what mother he's referring to. Regardless of our marital situation we all have women that we look to for guidance, caring and fortitude. I suggest this Mother's Day, we reflect not just on our own mother but on all our mothers. I'm not the type to pander to the left and suggest it takes a village, but it never hurts to have a few strong women in the mix.

And there are some damn fine moms out there.