Mother's Day

This is a belated post about Mother's Day which fell on May 13th this year. That day began like any other day for me. I made breakfast, woke C up and as usual I had to rush her to get ready quickly so that we would not be late for church. Her Sunday School class was to give a small performance of two songs dedicated to mothers. After they sang the songs, they went around distributing self-decorated framed mirrors, with a poem attached, to all the women in church -- mothers, grandmothers, mothers-to-be, godmothers, aunts, etc. The pastor gave a sermon titled 'Celebrating Mothers' based on the story of how two women played important roles in Moses' early life -- his birth mother and his adoptive mother.



After church, we came home to rest for the afternoon before heading out for a birthday-cum-Mother's Day dinner with E's family. Nephew J was celebrating his fourth birthday and dinner was at this very porky place called Hoofed in Taman Tun. We had their roast duck salad, roast suckling pig, a roast pork belly-ribs-shoulder combo, pasta, fried rice, and deep fried calamari and onion rings.

Here's wishing all mothers a very belated Happy Mother's Day (better late than never, right?). Everyday can be Mother's Day in fact!

The Invisible Mother

I received this forwarded mail from my aunt today, written by someone unknown, and it is a good one. This is dedicated to all moms, especially those who have exchanged their degrees and careers for diapers and dishes, choosing to stay at home to build their 'cathedral'.

Invisible Mother......

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask me a question. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously, not.

No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going; she's going; she is gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England ..

Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in.

I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:

'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.

These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.

They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place.

It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.

The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're gonna love it there.'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Great Job, MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know...I just did.

Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it sometimes does.
We never know what our finished products will turn out to be because of our perseverance.

Only a mother

Only a mother would...

stay up all night watching her feverish child
eat her child's unfinished food and not think it's gross
ignore the numbness in her thigh when her child uses it as a pillow
wipe up vomit lovingly from the floor
sacrifice her favourite part of the chicken for her child
cuddle her teething child closer when he suckles and bites
carry her tired child despite her bad back
skip lunch to save and buy her child a much-desired book
accept her child with open arms after he made a mistake that hurt
drive through hail to deliver a forgotten jacket to the classroom
give her life to her child

Only a mother would. More precisely, only a mother at heart would.

Tidy up!

When Caitlin plays with her toys, it is usually a nightmare for me. She usually starts with some and then moves on to others and as time passes, the whole play area will be strewn with toys, some just thrown about, some arranged in a particular order based on her imagination and 'script'.

I always remind her that she needs to tidy up after she plays and return the toys to the boxes or compartments where they belong. Otherwise, her toys will get all mixed up and the next time she wants a particular one, she may not be able to find it (that has happened countless times and guess who ends up rummaging through her toys to look for Pinky Pie, one of the Little Ponies?)

One evening, she started telling me a story. She sometimes creates stories of her own and I would write them down in a dedicated notebook and later in a blog called Caitlin's Stories. I had forgotten where I kept the notebook (it had been sometime since her last story) and in passing asked her if she knew where I had placed it.

"See, you didn't tidy up and put it back where it belongs so now you can't find it" came her reply....

Geez, my own medicine didn't taste good at all, and trust my smarty-mouth princess(what we Malaysians call 'loyar buruk' or 'lawyer wannabe') to come up with that!

We mothers do have loads of such stories about our kids. Some are funny, touching, embarrassing, great or not-so-great moments, as how The Mom with Brownies puts it. You can read about others' experiences in motherhood here.

Working mothers

I have a friend who is expecting her seventh child next month. She was my secondary school classmate. She is a qualified medical practitioner and has chosen to stay at home.

I have another secondary school classmate friend who has four kids. She is a qualified pharmacist and has also chosen to stay at home.

I have other friends with two or three kids but are still out there working because they need to, or they want to.

Some mothers prefer to be at home to spend as much time as they can with their kids, watching and helping them grow up. Some believe they can still do it without staying at home so they continue working. Some, whether they want to or not, need to be at home due to certain circumstances.

Some who choose to stay home can depend on their husbands to bring home the bread. Some are lucky enough to continue to live the same lifestyle as before - shopping, travelling, maid or even maids, car, personal luxuries. Some cannot depend entirely on their husbands and have to find ways to earn supplementary income from home and cut down their spending, get rid of the maid, stop shopping and travelling.

Meanwhile, some totally can't afford to leave their jobs and have to continue working, employing a maid to help with the house and kids. And some prefer to be 'working mothers' and not stay at home to become a 'housewife'. Whatever it is, all mothers are working mothers. The only difference is that some are salaried and some are not.

Someone once said the phrase "working mothers" is redundant.

A place for busy mums

Since joining SocialSpark recently, I've had the opportunity to meet quite a number of mummy bloggers. Their blogs are all so unique, funny, insightful, and helpful. It's a comfort to read them because it reminds me that there are other mums all over the world like me who have to contend with the ups and downs of life as a mum, first and foremost, and as everything else that comes with that title, such as chef, chauffeur, cleaner, tutor, doctor, storyteller, etc.

Busy Mommy shares this sentiment and its tagline "Surviving Motherhood One Mess At A Time" just says it all. This is a website geared towards busy stay-at-home, work-at-home, and working mothers.

It provides useful information and resources, and shares personal experiences of life as a mummy. So if you're not too busy screaming at your kid who is scrawling on your wall while breastfeeding and trying to cook dinner at the same time, maybe some 'therapy' can be found by visiting Busy Mommy!

A mummy blogger

I made a new friend today in the blogosphere. She is a stay-at-home mum of two kids and author of six blogs and websites! I take my hat off to her for her achievement. One of her blogs, Parenting Times has many useful suggestions and links for kids activities, kids sites and kids crafts.

This is one site I would certainly add to my list of favourite blogs.