Motherhood.
Yeah, yeah. It's almost Mother's Day. Of course everyone thinks about mothers on Mother's Day. I have a great mother. I've learned a ton from her. I always get the feeling she never purposely set out to teach me anything, though. No, she was far too sneaky for that. And practical. My mother was the type who would be folding clothes on the bed while listening to me yammer on and on about my school day. She really didn't say that much, she just listened.
She would likewise sit at her sewing machine mumbling out occasional responses to me while keeping a row of pins pressed between her lips. She saved the really poignant things to say until she used up all her pins and could finally open her mouth all the way. Yes. Good old mom. Only she isn't really old, I guess. She isn't even 70 yet.
But this isn't even what I was going to say. I was going to talk about my own motherhood. If you are expecting an expose on how to do it "right" or, really, any "advice", look somewhere else.
When I was going through some of the stuff that had been sitting in the attic, I came across a box that I used to keep in my closet. I came to think of it as my treasure box. It was really simply a small plastic tote with a lid into which I would quickly stow little notes and pictures my children gave me (or ones I saw lying around that I found to be especially cute). It was a solution born out of guilt for throwing this sort of thing away. I figured I could use the box as a bit of a time capsule and reminisce on days gone by....someday.
We are now at someday. I actually really didn't even remember I had the box. And I actually didn't even spend a lot of time reminiscing through it when it occurred to me what was in there....yet. BUT.....I did happen upon a couple of "I Love Mommy" type note in childish scrawl. Awww. I'm touched. One little picture was signed, "For Colleen, From Logan". He was probably 5 when he did it.
Anyhow, another little note in there made me laugh. It was written by Maria. I had made a notation on the note that indicated that Maria had sent the note via Shannah out to the butcher shop where I was butchering chickens. She had included a pencil for me to write to her a response. The note said (spelling and punctuation intact from the original):
"Brady sounds croaky and he smells funny I took his shirt of and wiped his face but he still smells what should I do?"
I have no recollection of what I advised.
