Real Mothers

As I sat and listened to the little poem the lady at the front of the church was reading yesterday, I heard these words about "real mothers."

Real Mothers don't eat quiche; they don't have time to make it.

Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox.

Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens and happy kids.

Real Mothers know that dried playdough doesn't come out of shag carpet.

Real Mothers sometimes ask "why me?" and get their answer when a little voice says, "because I love you best."

Real Mothers know that a child's growth is not measured by height or years or grade...It is marked by the progression of Mama to Mommy to Mother.

This is a cute little poem and I have to admit I chuckled at how many items on the list I have experienced in the last year. But it also made me think of a recent conversation where someone told me that I wasn't a "Real Mother" because I only had one child. I was taken aback by the comment...I have to admit it stung a little bit. But what stings the most for me is that we, as women, as mothers, as other mothers, as friends, as coworkers, as other females continue to look at motherhood as a competition of some sort.

Think how powerful we would be and what a better world it would be for our children if we looked at ourselves as a community of mothers. Some of us come into motherhood through birth, some of us adopt...neither is a better choice. It just is. Some of us stay at home and others have outside employment...neither is a life of leisure. It just is. Some of us have one child and others parent many siblings....but we are all mothers.

I admit I was embarrassed that this woman's (who is an amazing lady, by the way) comments "got" to me. I should be above this. I shouldn't care...but as a newcomer to this motherhood sorority and one that stood on the outside looking in for so many years, I had an idealized vision of what being a mother was going to be like. Sometimes it is far different. I have even found myself passing judgements about other mothers. I have made unkind comments about their skills from what I consider to be too late bedtimes and inappropriate food choices to what appears to be a lack of discipline. But today on Mother's Day I am reminded that I am no mother's judge. In the end aren't we all just trying to do the best for our children? I am hoping that by doing that we will someday find a way to support each other a little more along the way.