Thank you Linda Bevec, St. Anne Catholic Parish, Liberty Pundits, and Melissa Clouthier
All I needed one evening was a half hour alone, thirty minutes of serenity and calm after a hectic day at home with two toddlers. A brief retreat from changing diapers, fixing meals, calming tantrums, cleaning sticky messes and mediating arguments over who hit who with what. So after dinner I hinted to my husband that I was going to slip upstairs and take a hot bath. After sinking into the steamy bubbles I was convinced that Calgon was by far the closest thing to paradise. Moments later I hear the pitter-patter of footsteps as my 3-year old son Frankie creeps into the bathroom “Mom, mom, are you in here?” I had already learned that ignoring my children does not make them go away. And before I could respond, he’s standing over the tub, “Whatcha doing Mom?” “I’m taking a bath honey…why don’t you go downstairs and play with your sister?” “Mom, mom, look at the Batman picture I drew!’
And after a quick approval of his super hero drawing I handed him a cup. “Honey, take this cup to Daddy and tell him mom needs a whole cup full of privacy, ok?” He takes the cup and proudly heads out the door on a mission. Surely my husband will get the hint and keep the kids occupied for just another 20 minutes or so. I sank back down and drifted away in the warmth and quiet. Suddenly my son enters the bathroom; empty cup in hand. “Mom, Dad said we’re all out of privacy.” My quiet time may have seemed totally hopeless, but I laughed so hard I nearly drowned. Then I spent the rest of my “alone time” listening to my three-year-old son who sat there on the bathroom floor beside the tub with his arms wrapped around his bent legs, chin resting on his knees, a crown of dark curls around his baby face, ‘Mom, mom, do you really think Batman can fly?’
In the early years of motherhood there isn’t much alone time. A mother works 24/7 as a resident physician, psychologist, theologian, educator, nurse, chef, cleaning lady, ultimate expert of imaginary fun and occasional police officer. And if she succeeds in each of these tasks, she gets to do it all over again the next day. From the moment we nervously bring our first newborn home, a mother is uniquely qualified to love and nurture unconditionally. There are no sacred vows or elaborate ceremony to mark the occasion. You walk in the door cradling a precious new life, and instantly you’re a mother, forever. There are no college courses on “Introduction to Colic” or “History and Theory of Picky Eating” and no academic advisor to guide you in selecting the perfect preschool. Motherhood is 90 percent on-the-job training and 10 percent true grit. If you’ve never been one to pray, you’ll find yourself on your knees when you’re a mom. If you’ve never reflected much on Mary, our mother of Jesus, you can relate in complete awe to the immense love, suffering and sacrifice she endured when you embrace your own son.
They say there are no atheists in foxholes. I’d also venture to say there are no atheists in the delivery room because looking into the eyes of her newborn child a mother really does feel the awesome presence of God. And I believe he’s there at that moment not only to usher in a new soul but to remind us that we’ll need Him more than ever on the journey ahead. Every mother needs strength and faith to face the day-to-day trials at home, but especially when facing the bigger challenges of raising children in an increasingly secular world that is nearly devoid of the virtues we as mothers of faith desire for our children. The Internet alone has 4.2 million sites for pornography. Children can instantly be exposed to violent images and seductive ideologies in the “safety” of home and they will forever be changed at the core. Our pop culture world emulates glamour and materialism, alcohol and drugs and feeds an insatiable appetite for instant gratification. Young celebrities receive fame for being single and pregnant. The largest and fastest growing consumer market in an already bankrupt society is children under the age of 16. And there’s a pervasive message of apathy and disrespect in more and more children’s television programming.
Do I feel discouraged as a mother? Absolutely. That’s why every Sunday I peel back the covers and wake my kids for church. I carefully screen and read movie reviews on Catholic websites. I encourage music with a message (thank you John Angotti for visiting Saint Anne!) I pray every day with my children and for my children. I limit TV and electronics and have been able, so far, to hold off giving my kids cell phones, iPods or laptops. It’s not easy. I’ve made my share of mistakes and am far from perfect. I’m not always a popular mom and they may not understand now the battle I’m fighting for them. But hopefully someday they will understand that their lives are a journey back to the God who created them and the choices they make each and every day do matter. I pray too that their lives will be a light of God’s love in this world and their actions will reflect it.
Like all moms, I’ve managed the on-the-job training by taking one day at a time. I’ve spent sleepless nights comforting a colicky baby, tried to manage a 2-year old’s tantrum in public, retrieved lost stuffed animals from peril, gave in to big brown eyes requesting a pet fish, conducted a funeral for beloved pet fish, created forts from couch cushions on rainy days, wiped teary faces, doctored high fevers, read “Goodnight Moon” hundreds of times, watched a painful amount of Barney & Friends, and for nearly three years I swear I smelled like play dough and peanut butter. This past year I cheered obnoxiously over our son’s first hockey goal, tearfully led our youngest into Kindergarten and prayed in agony through our daughter’s kidney transplant. Most mothers I know deserve a medal, a six-figure salary and a standing ovation (mine certainly did!) for the passion and commitment they have for their children and for what they endure while raising them. But most mothers I know would much rather receive a hand-picked bouquet of dandelions and a sticky kiss.
Oh, and maybe a nice hot bubble bath…alone.
Happy Mother’s Day to all of you who walk this journey with love, hope and faith! May God bless you and the little lives you lead.
“Her children rise up and call her blessed; Her husband also, and he praises her.” Proverbs 31:28
To really appreciate Linda Bevic's "Reflection" click on the "Linda Bevic" link at the beginning of this post and learn more about her real life story.
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