Nannette Caina  
Obstacles and Opportunities
By Karna Converse


Dear Ellen,

Last night, you asked if it was hard to be a mom. At that particular
time, I was rushing to get dinner on the table, one ear tuned in to
you,
the other tuned in to the argument that was brewing between your
brothers in the basement.

I sighed and hurriedly answered, "Yes, sometimes it is, but it's all
worth it. Now go find something to do."



Let go and know there is a love that sustains all


My answer was rushed and a bit flippant, but you were satisfied.

"Good," you said, "'cause I want to be a mom when I grow up." Then,
with a big smile, you skipped off to join the noise in the basement.

After you went to bed, I thought a bit more about your question and my
answer. And yes, being a mom is hard work. In fact, sometimes it's
downright difficult.

I have only a few short years (although sometimes the days seem like
eternity) to teach you that you should cross the street at the corner
and wear a helmet when you ride your bicycle. That it's right to say
"thank you," but wrong to talk to strangers. That it's right to answer
the phone, but wrong to say, "My mom's not home."

Being a mom means being a protector, organizer, juggler, chief cook and
bottle washer. Some days, the list is never-ending, the responsibility
enormous. But every day, I make a choice about how I view my job: a
day
laden with obstacles to be overcome or one that is brimming with
opportunities to be seized.

It's easy to see the obstacles.

White woodwork pocked with black fingerprints. Stains on the carpet.
Cobwebs in the corners. Dust bunnies under the beds. Toys on the
stairs. Smelly trash. Runny noses. Ratty hair. Holey socks. Wasted
food.

When the obstacles are overwhelming, my days are disjointed and
tear-stained. These are the days I wear old clothes because, if the
baby isn't spitting up on them, the toddler is spilling paint on them.
The days when, just as I fall exhausted into bed, a voice calls out
from
down the hall, "Mom, I wet the bed."

But when I look for the opportunities, I find that I am surrounded.

A warm burp and soft head burrowing into my shoulder. A tent
constructed over the dining-room table. An announcement that the art
gallery is open and paintings by an accomplished four-year-old can be
purchased for a mere five cents. A secret discussion in the basement
on
the best tactic to use when spying on Mom. A middle-of-the-night poke
in the arm with an innocent, "Can I sleep with you?"

I can laugh at your chocolate-moustached faces because I know you like
brownies best when they're warm from the oven. I can smile at the
soaking wet mittens because I know you're proud of the snow fort you
built in the backyard. My days are filled with pep talks of
encouragement: Yes, I can get up in the middle of the night, one more
time, to nurse the baby - he smells so good. Yes, I can read The Cat
in
the Hat one more time - she still fits on my lap. Yes, I can listen to
one more argument and name-calling session without losing my cool - I
know someday they'll be best buddies.

Last night, when dinner was over, the three of you ran off with
extravagant plans to build a Lego castle that promised to be the
biggest
one yet. The argument so important before dinner was forgotten.
Later,
you scrunched newspapers and carried firewood into the house.

"We need lots of wood," you informed me, "because we're going to have a
big, big fire." Then you plopped down on the couch and announced,
"Listen to me read Green Eggs and Ham."

I heard firewood crackling in the background. I saw swirls of dust
through the flames. And I knew that the opportunities of being a mom
far outweigh the obstacles.

Is it hard to be a mom? Sometimes.

Is it worth it? Always.

Love, Mom
Oct 4th 2007 16:37