I also learned that there while there aren't any major magic milestone moments, there a lot of little life victories.
Mother's Day came and went in a whoosh with a wheesh and a bang. (RJ has been requesting Thomas the Tank Engine stories nearly every night, and GiGi is presently snoozing wearing her bubba's old train PJ's. I therefore, am thinking in terms of that magical little railway where trains whoosh and wheesh their days away).
That is, Mother's Day came and went nearly before I could remember why we celebrate moms. I know why I celebrate my mom. She's my best friend. My seamstress. My telecommuter (we talk every day while I make my rounds to school, to downtown, to school, and home again). My babies' gammy, gummy, schotzy and grandma. (GiGi is doing role call these days. She'll settle on a name soon enough). I hope my mom recognizes her little victories. The day she showed up for flag corp try-outs with balloons--even where there wasn't a prayer that I'd make it (I lost out on character points--my violin teacher dinged me because she didn't want me to damage my wrists--it still hurt). The handmade christening gowns and the perfect little dresses that everyone asks where to find. All of that fried chicken. The best fanciest birthday cakes. And the perfectly pink princess wedding.
I know it's hard to recognize those little mom victories sometimes. Some are easier to see than others. I know RJ loves me because, according to the place mat he made me, I am 24 years old (Score!), I am as pretty as the stars (a high compliment from a little boy who is imagining his first summer camp- out under the stars), and I'm special because at his birthday, I didn't bug him to do stuff (not sure what to think about that, but I think it's a compliment).
I think, though, one of the hardest things about being a mom is remembering to celebrate those little victories yourself. Our kids give us little reminders. RJ's school hosted a Mother's Day tea where we were serenaded with mommy songs (I lost my memory card with the mommy songs; I'm a little heart broken). The kids made a sign that told us all of the things moms do: they kiss our boo-boos; they clean; they read to us, and they make us dinner; they love us; they work; and they go to the store to buy us food. I can guaranty you that my child put forth the last two: mom works and she goes to the store to buy food. It stung a little. But, sometimes the truth hurts. And sometimes it helps to remember that even though mom works and goes to the store to buy food, she's also magic with just enough lap and just enough snuggles for her babies.
We relaxed on Mother's Day. We wore our grubbies and played outside. We drank red Kool-Aid and ate fresh salsa. It was a good day. We did learn that GiGi is terrified of dogs--even little fluffy white ones. It was like Cujo, the remake. GiGi, a bowl of veggie crunchers in hand. Bila, a Bichon with a smile bounded over for doggie kisses. GiGi threw the bowl straight in the air, scrambled, trembling, to climb into a chair and stayed in mom's lap the rest of the day.
This little boy is my bestie; I hope I'm always his too. On Mother's Day he asked if he could take me on a lunch date. I think he really just wanted mac 'n' cheese from Panera, but I'll take those little lunch dates any way I can get them.
And sometimes, even though mom works and goes to the store to buy food, she still remembers how to have a little fun.
Celebrate the little victories. RJ thinks I'm pretty as the stars! And GiGi actually climbed in my lap for snuggles--snuggles precipitated by the attack Bichon, but snuggles nonetheless! Mother's Day wasn't special this year in the sense of brunches, corsages, and carefully orchestrated presentations. It was better. It was motherhood in the best and truest sense. An afternoon of sweaty little boy hugs, sticky toddler kisses, homemade salsa and sangria. Little victories.
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