Mother's Day: An Ode To Tammy
Let me tell you a story, once upon a time, there was a husband and wife who loved to play music together. Then, they had a daughter who they both loved very much. The wife was happy in her role as a mom, but the husband wanted to play his music for the world. One day, he left to go on a tour and never returned. The mom wasted no time, she banned music from her home and learned to make shoes for a living because she had a daughter to provide for.
If this sounds familiar, you're 100% right it is from the movie Coco. Sorry, it's all I could come up with because my child watches that movie on a loop and I literally wake up with "Un Poco Loco" lyrics in my head.
Anyway, it seemed as if the mother hated music because she banned it from her home. Years later, though, she admitted that she absolutely loved music, and that she loved to sing and dance with her family. She just had to make the decision to put music aside for the good of her family and daughter.
And that right there is a summary of a mom for you.
Over the past year, I've really experienced the highs and lows of motherhood. I've said it a lot over the past 365 days, but I never truly understood how much my mom sacrificed for me and loved me until I became a mom and experienced this suffocating mix of love, worry, exhaustion, and pain.
When I sit and think about everything it means (for me) to be a mom, I can't help but feel guilty that it took me so long to understand all that my mom did for me. I've sat in the car crying because I don't feel like I'm measuring up. I wonder how many times my mom did that- and I wonder if she took it to heart when I was a jerk-teenager affirming her worst fear, telling her that I hated her and couldn't wait to move out. When I pour myself a (really, really) big glass of wine at the end of a tough night, I giggle thinking back to calling my mom an alcoholic because she had her nightly glass of wine. If I had only known back then what I know now, I'd have poured the glass for her myself and ensured the wine was perfectly chilled.
If you've been following me, you know that late last year Eva went through a very very sick period. October 2017 through January 2018 were filled with ear infections, allergic reactions, countless trips to the pediatrician, reporting a pediatrician to the medical board for negligence, an ear tube surgery, and pneumonia. There were many nights I slept on Eva's floor because the only way she'd fall asleep was if I was right there, and then I'd naturally fall asleep, too. I remember the guilt I felt when I was getting my hair colored and Spencer called to tell me he had to take Eva to get a chest x-ray. I felt like the worst mom ever. My daughter was getting chest xrays while I sat there with bleach and foils in my hair.
I wonder how many times my mom slept on my floor, or in her rocking chair with me on her chest. I wonder how many hair appointments she missed or sacrificed for me. Sure, a hair appointment may seem silly, but now I know how much it matters to a mom. There were so many times I laughed at my mom for her constant nail appointments and hair cuts. Here I am, now, essentially her clone.
This past weekend, Eva was sick. Sick toddlers are pretty much the worst kinds of toddlers (aside from the snuggles). If she wasn't playing she was whining because she wanted to play. If she was playing she was whining if I was not on the floor right next to her. She couldn't eat well so I sat there and spoon-fed her yogurt any time she was hungry. I made sure she drank her water. I woke up at 4am to soothe her back to sleep. Then, Monday morning rolled around. I got her up and made her a yummy breakfast, and sat down at the table next to her, at which point she yelled at me. I got up and the yelling stopped. I sat back down and it started back up. That child didn't so much as want me sitting next to her after everything I did for her over the weekend.
My feelings were so hurt. I told my husband how irrational it was, because she's little and doesn't understand, but it hurt my heart that she didn't want me anywhere near her after all the love I gave her over the weekend.
How many times did I make my mom feel that way? How many last-minute loads of laundry did she do so my softball uniform was clean? How many times did she drive me to friends houses because I was "so bored" at home and didn't want to hang out with her? How many times did she tell me to hydrate and sleep so I could feel better and I just whined at her because I didn't feel good?
I can't believe it has taken me 30/31 years to realize just what my mom has done for me. I think of all those days she stayed home with my sister and I and the minute dad came home we'd run to him like he was the best person in the world. Meanwhile, she was probably somewhere cleaning up the pile of Cheerio crumbs we left behind. I now realize how much money she sacrificed for us. She would give us a budget for new clothes, but when we wanted those Abercrombie and Fitch jeans that put us way over, she'd still manage to get them for us. Who knows what line item in the budget she gave up for herself just to get us those. Not to mention, she put up with so much grief because we were so embarrassed that she sat outside of that store on a bench until we called her in. As a grown up, I get it. It was not a pleasant shopping experience in there- dark, loud, and overwhelmingly smelly.
And even still, she hasn't stopped being a mom. When Eva was so sick, she came to my rescue. She watched her so I could work as much as I could. She advocated for me when the doctors weren't listening to me as I insisted there was something more going on with my baby that they were missing. She encouraged me stand up to my husband who wanted me to follow the doctor's direction to wait it out even though everything inside me told me I shouldn't wait anymore. This reminded me of the time I had food poisoning on a family vacation in California and dad didn't want me to go to the ER/Urgent Care because everything was out of network. I will never forget my mom smacking him on the chest, calling him a name, and insisting I get to a hospital. I was 18 years old, and my mom was still sticking up for me. I remember waking up in the urgent care after a couple bags of fluid to my mom sitting next to me in the middle of the night while my dad slept in the waiting room.
When I went into early labor with Eva, my mom checked in seemingly every single one of those 41 hours to make sure I was okay, and managed to arrive at the hospital exactly as they were getting me and Eva moved into our new room. Then, she went back to my house and cleaned it top to bottom (including the carpet where my water broke....that's love ya'll) and stocked our fridge. She brought me clean clothes, and stayed close but not too close our first night at home.
When I had my appendix out this past December, she arrived at our home completely unaware I had spent the day in the ER (I didn't want to worry her) and expecting a fun night with my family, only to swoop in and take care of Eva so Spencer could come take care of me. She stayed up that night waiting for us to get home to make sure I was okay. The following days she made sure I didn't lift anything, and taught Spencer to set alarms for my medicine so I wasn't in pain. She even understood when I opted out of Christmas day/dinner. Then, in March, when Spencer was in Boston I had hurt my back picking Eva up wrong and she ended up with Hand Food Mouth (for the first time). She came to my rescue and insisted I still go get my 90 minute deep tissue massage while she watched Eva for me. She stayed for a few days and picked up the house without my ever having to ask her to.
I wish I could go back in time and actually thank her in the moments she likely needed to hear those words from me. I wish I had taken a moment and hugged her and thanked her for being my mom - because it's awful she had to wait 30 years for me to really get it.
So, I know it's really late, but Mom, you are the best, thank you for everything you've done and for shaping me into the woman I am. I'm sorry I spent so long thinking dad was the hero of the family while you quietly handled the less glamorous work behind the scenes. Thank you for listening to me when my friends were mean to me, and still letting me invite them over later once we weren't fighting anymore. Thank you for keeping your mouth shut when I was with someone I thought I'd marry and you knew I wouldn't.....and for being there for me when it inevitably fell apart- I can't imagine how hard it was for you to see your baby devastated from 700 miles away knowing there was nothing you could do to make it better. Thank you for treating my husband like your own kid, and loving him for loving me. Thank you for loving Eva almost as much as I do.
I wish I had told you this when I was younger, but you're a great mom, and you did a wonderful job. Thank you for setting the bar so high for me as a mom.
Happy Mother's Day xoxoxo
If this sounds familiar, you're 100% right it is from the movie Coco. Sorry, it's all I could come up with because my child watches that movie on a loop and I literally wake up with "Un Poco Loco" lyrics in my head.
Anyway, it seemed as if the mother hated music because she banned it from her home. Years later, though, she admitted that she absolutely loved music, and that she loved to sing and dance with her family. She just had to make the decision to put music aside for the good of her family and daughter.
And that right there is a summary of a mom for you.Over the past year, I've really experienced the highs and lows of motherhood. I've said it a lot over the past 365 days, but I never truly understood how much my mom sacrificed for me and loved me until I became a mom and experienced this suffocating mix of love, worry, exhaustion, and pain.
When I sit and think about everything it means (for me) to be a mom, I can't help but feel guilty that it took me so long to understand all that my mom did for me. I've sat in the car crying because I don't feel like I'm measuring up. I wonder how many times my mom did that- and I wonder if she took it to heart when I was a jerk-teenager affirming her worst fear, telling her that I hated her and couldn't wait to move out. When I pour myself a (really, really) big glass of wine at the end of a tough night, I giggle thinking back to calling my mom an alcoholic because she had her nightly glass of wine. If I had only known back then what I know now, I'd have poured the glass for her myself and ensured the wine was perfectly chilled.If you've been following me, you know that late last year Eva went through a very very sick period. October 2017 through January 2018 were filled with ear infections, allergic reactions, countless trips to the pediatrician, reporting a pediatrician to the medical board for negligence, an ear tube surgery, and pneumonia. There were many nights I slept on Eva's floor because the only way she'd fall asleep was if I was right there, and then I'd naturally fall asleep, too. I remember the guilt I felt when I was getting my hair colored and Spencer called to tell me he had to take Eva to get a chest x-ray. I felt like the worst mom ever. My daughter was getting chest xrays while I sat there with bleach and foils in my hair.
I wonder how many times my mom slept on my floor, or in her rocking chair with me on her chest. I wonder how many hair appointments she missed or sacrificed for me. Sure, a hair appointment may seem silly, but now I know how much it matters to a mom. There were so many times I laughed at my mom for her constant nail appointments and hair cuts. Here I am, now, essentially her clone.
This past weekend, Eva was sick. Sick toddlers are pretty much the worst kinds of toddlers (aside from the snuggles). If she wasn't playing she was whining because she wanted to play. If she was playing she was whining if I was not on the floor right next to her. She couldn't eat well so I sat there and spoon-fed her yogurt any time she was hungry. I made sure she drank her water. I woke up at 4am to soothe her back to sleep. Then, Monday morning rolled around. I got her up and made her a yummy breakfast, and sat down at the table next to her, at which point she yelled at me. I got up and the yelling stopped. I sat back down and it started back up. That child didn't so much as want me sitting next to her after everything I did for her over the weekend.
My feelings were so hurt. I told my husband how irrational it was, because she's little and doesn't understand, but it hurt my heart that she didn't want me anywhere near her after all the love I gave her over the weekend.How many times did I make my mom feel that way? How many last-minute loads of laundry did she do so my softball uniform was clean? How many times did she drive me to friends houses because I was "so bored" at home and didn't want to hang out with her? How many times did she tell me to hydrate and sleep so I could feel better and I just whined at her because I didn't feel good?
I can't believe it has taken me 30/31 years to realize just what my mom has done for me. I think of all those days she stayed home with my sister and I and the minute dad came home we'd run to him like he was the best person in the world. Meanwhile, she was probably somewhere cleaning up the pile of Cheerio crumbs we left behind. I now realize how much money she sacrificed for us. She would give us a budget for new clothes, but when we wanted those Abercrombie and Fitch jeans that put us way over, she'd still manage to get them for us. Who knows what line item in the budget she gave up for herself just to get us those. Not to mention, she put up with so much grief because we were so embarrassed that she sat outside of that store on a bench until we called her in. As a grown up, I get it. It was not a pleasant shopping experience in there- dark, loud, and overwhelmingly smelly.
When I went into early labor with Eva, my mom checked in seemingly every single one of those 41 hours to make sure I was okay, and managed to arrive at the hospital exactly as they were getting me and Eva moved into our new room. Then, she went back to my house and cleaned it top to bottom (including the carpet where my water broke....that's love ya'll) and stocked our fridge. She brought me clean clothes, and stayed close but not too close our first night at home.
When I had my appendix out this past December, she arrived at our home completely unaware I had spent the day in the ER (I didn't want to worry her) and expecting a fun night with my family, only to swoop in and take care of Eva so Spencer could come take care of me. She stayed up that night waiting for us to get home to make sure I was okay. The following days she made sure I didn't lift anything, and taught Spencer to set alarms for my medicine so I wasn't in pain. She even understood when I opted out of Christmas day/dinner. Then, in March, when Spencer was in Boston I had hurt my back picking Eva up wrong and she ended up with Hand Food Mouth (for the first time). She came to my rescue and insisted I still go get my 90 minute deep tissue massage while she watched Eva for me. She stayed for a few days and picked up the house without my ever having to ask her to.I wish I could go back in time and actually thank her in the moments she likely needed to hear those words from me. I wish I had taken a moment and hugged her and thanked her for being my mom - because it's awful she had to wait 30 years for me to really get it.
So, I know it's really late, but Mom, you are the best, thank you for everything you've done and for shaping me into the woman I am. I'm sorry I spent so long thinking dad was the hero of the family while you quietly handled the less glamorous work behind the scenes. Thank you for listening to me when my friends were mean to me, and still letting me invite them over later once we weren't fighting anymore. Thank you for keeping your mouth shut when I was with someone I thought I'd marry and you knew I wouldn't.....and for being there for me when it inevitably fell apart- I can't imagine how hard it was for you to see your baby devastated from 700 miles away knowing there was nothing you could do to make it better. Thank you for treating my husband like your own kid, and loving him for loving me. Thank you for loving Eva almost as much as I do.
I wish I had told you this when I was younger, but you're a great mom, and you did a wonderful job. Thank you for setting the bar so high for me as a mom.
Happy Mother's Day xoxoxo
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