Mother of a Job Description

The word 'mom' can be pronounced in many different ways depending on the day, the hour and the situation.  Sometimes it's with an incredibly long o; and based on the circumstance it can sound like a wail or a foghorn, but both are a form of tattling.  Sometimes it's got more than one syllable with an upturned lilt on the last, like it's more of a question.  Other times it turns down on the last m, like the user has suffered an extreme disappointment.  When it's used in conjunction with variances of itself, as in "Mom-Mommy-Mom" it's has more of a desperate quality in the sound.  But the one thing all of these pronunciations have in common is that it is said like it was printed in caps lock.  The only person who says the word mom like it's all in lower case letters is the mom herself, and then it's with a tired acceptance as in: "Yes, I'm his mom(sigh)."  Why are we the only ones who don't comprehend how vastly important this fact is?  All others say the word at high volume and with feeling, because anything less would convey an entirely different meaning, but the mom herself is the only one who needs convincing of her own worth.  The word mom means so much more to the world than the word's definition.  The Oxford Dictionary's version really leaves a lot to the imagination:

NOUN:

-informal for mother

   a. a woman in relation to a child or children to whom she has given birth.

VERB:

   a. bring up (a child) with care and affection.

Wow.  When I looked this up I expected to see pages of words describing a mom, at the very least an entire paragraph, but was amazed at what I found.  It's pathetic how little this actually describes in the life of a mother.

Being a wife and mother is the hardest job any woman could ever undertake.  It's down in the trenches, pushing through the exhaustion, hard.  The level of dedication that women show in devoting their entire life to their mate and offspring could be used to teach CIA operatives how to study their next target.  We know things about our husband and children that no ones else will ever take the time to know.  For instance, I know that my husband freaks out if he gets lotion on his hands and will start to gag if he hears the word vomit.  I know that early in the morning my 2 year old likes to lick the windows because the glass is cold and it feels nice.  I know how many minutes I have in order to find a bathroom, based on how high the knee comes up when my 5 year old starts to prance.  I know exactly which nightmare my 7 year old has had before I even get to his bedside, based solely on the tone of voice when my name was called out at 2am.  There are stalkers out there that don't exhibit 1/2 of the passion that a dedicated mother will show in one hour of her chaotic day.

So, why do I still sometimes feel like I'm not doing enough, that I'm not contributing to the world in any way that will make a lasting difference?  My biggest weakness is that I compare myself to others.  I look around during church and think that the other ladies couldn't possibly have just lost 10 minutes of their lives that morning yelling at the kids for using their pantyhose to play bank robber ninja with the result that one leg is about 18 inches longer than the other.  I tell myself that I'm the only one who thinks that trading my pajama pants in for yoga pants counts as getting dressed in the morning.  That surely I am the only one who is thinking of buying stock in hot dogs because it seems to be the only thing the kids will eat no matter what I cook.  And of course I am the only one who struggles with my weight.  Everyone around me is perfect.  Right?

 I also compare myself to the old me of my time before kids when I lived in what I innocently thought of as my fast paced life.  The thin me that wore a bra everyday.  The one who had time to wrap elaborate gifts for co-workers with color coordinating paper.  The me that never forgot birthday or thank you cards and who was a regular member of a charity league.  The me that I really don't have a thing in common with today.  And If I'm completely honest with myself about, the me that I most likely wouldn't even like if I had to spend any amount of time with.
Thankfully the times that I fall into this line of thinking are few.  And when I do feel myself start to doubt my worth as a wife and mother, I can call one of my sisters, girlfriends, or a sister in the ward to tell them:
"You've got to help me.  I'm a terrible mom.  The kids are hanging from the rafters like devious little monkeys and all I've done today is yell at them.  The house is trashed, we are all wearing pajamas because there are no clean clothes and I haven't showered since Tuesday."

Do you know what the response always is?  No matter who I call in my darkest hour, I am reassured to hear something along the lines of:

"I was just about to call you actually.  I wanted to know if you would adopt my 4 year old because if I don't re-home her, I'm going to kill her. I let the kids eat popcorn for dinner because I just couldn't face the kitchen and mountain of dishes.  I did get a shower today, but because I haven't shaved my legs since September, I'm not sure it really counts as good grooming."

No one is perfect.  There isn't a mother out there who we could justify in raising onto a pedestal.  Our goal as a wife and mother shouldn't be to be just like so and so.  I try really hard to remind myself that my goal in life is to be the best ME.  Because I am good enough, smart enough, and dedicated enough to be the mom and wife that my family needs.  I am enough, just as I am.  And I know that my Father in Heaven is proud of me every day that I do my best.  That's exactly what He expects of me.  My best.  And I have to think that He understands when some days my best turns out to be hot dogs and jammies all day.

In my personal life I am a simple, God fearing woman who likes long walks in the park and who's searching for an honest, hardworking marzipan recipe.  Unfortunately for that side of my life, I'm also the personal assistant to three very demanding and narcissistic slave drivers.  A child's view of the world is very 'me' oriented, therefore their definition of mom encompasses their entire life.  It means that they have their very own personal mediator/referee and good will ambassador willing to step in the middle of any uprising in order to restore peace.  They have a temperamental chef who feeds them 3 times a day, and if they're lucky... cookies.  They have a toy-nazi harridan who is freakishly obsessed with how many items they've spread all over their house, a maid who requires them to make their own beds and pick up their own clothes.  A bathroom attendant, chauffeur, activities director, EMT, and lego specialist.  A secretary to coordinate school and church attendance, healthcare appointments and social engagements.  A pack horse, monster banisher, midnight errand runner, and comfortable pillow.   They get deliveries of new clothes and toys on a regular basis and a person to see to the basic maintenance of those things.

Any one of those jobs can mean pretty good money out in the real world, and there are plenty of people who only do ONE of those things for their entire 9-5.  But a MOM does all of these things and more for free.  How can that not be enough???

I am on call 24/7/365.  I work graveyards, overtime and holidays for beautiful little tyrants.  They pay me in quick hugs, kisses from peanut butter smeared faces and original works of art to cover my fridge.  I consider it a fair trade for the services I provide, because I am a MOM.