Late Mother's Day Reflections

Mother's Day is drawing to a close. I've spent a better part of the day, appropriately, mothering. While being showered with cards and kisses from my six-year-old son, I've had a chance to reflect a bit on the subject of motherhood. (Being a mom is a busy job--I'm just now getting a chance to write this down!) In six years, I've learned an incredible amount about being a mother. But the greatest lessons, and the most powerful tools for raising a child, I learned from my own mother.

It was never anything she said, although she's always offered me advice when I've asked (or sometimes even when I didn't.) It wasn't anything she gave to me, or did... in fact, it was what she didn't do, and what she didn't say. She never told me who I was supposed to be. She never made me read a book. She never made me eat dinner with the rest of the family. She never told me that being a mother was a hard job which took enormous amounts of emotional strength. She never told me the secret; that the best mothers lead by example. No, she never forced anything on me (save the occasional side of broccoli) ...on the other hand, she showed me.

It took me a while to catch on. I've had frustrating moments as a mom. Take the family dinner, for an example. I'd plan a big dinner, and ask my husband to help clean up the kitchen, or ask my son to take his toys off the dinner table. After getting little or no response, I'd end up shoveling the food onto plates and handing them out, then going to eat in front of my computer. After a while, fancy dinners gave way to take-out from restaurants. I would complain in frustration, that I couldn't get my family to eat around the dinner table. Something was wrong, I insisted, because dinnertime was supposed to be important!

Dinnertime was always my favorite time of the day when I was growing up, a fact that had little to do with the act of eating. We'd all gather around the table, share food and the news of the day. Sitting there, I learned about history, politics, science, interspersed with delightful bits of weird humor. Of course, we talked about food as well. I loved my mom's cooking, and learned everything I could from her in the kitchen. Even if I helped her out, Mom was usually one of the last to sit down at the table, and always the last to leave. Sometimes, I'd finish eating, and stay just to talk to her.

In recent years, I've realized how much of a role model my mom was, sitting there talking with me at the dinner table. When I was in elementary school, she returned to school herself, studying history and anthropology. By the time I was in high school, she was a teacher. (She once worked as a substitute teacher in one of my classes, much to my teen-angst-filled chagrin.) She worked nights and summers while she went to school. Despite the many hours she invested in her classes and jobs, she kept the house clean and well-decorated. She always found time to read a new a book, tend to the garden, the pets, and of course, prepare the family dinner without complaint, and sit there longer than anyone else. In other words, she was SuperWoman.

Eventually, well after I had a child of my own, I found the secret to getting the family to eat around the dinner table. It isn't preparing the fancy food or setting the table with expensive linens. It's setting an example for everyone else. I start making dinner, and let the smells of good, home-cooked meals lure them into the kitchen. I clear off the table, and soon I have volunteers to help set the table and stir the pot. Soon, everything is ready and the table is set, with candles lit. I don't tell anyone their presence is mandatory (as I once tried.) Instead, they arrive naturally, amazingly followed by manners and conversation.

The best moms lead by example. I'm still learning, still surprised when my son naturally acquires a love for reading or nature, simply by following my lead. It's easy to forget that is the way I learned... by watching my own mother.

The best moms lead by example, and my mom is the best of the best. Thanks, Mom! Happy Mother's Day*, to you, and to all the moms out there, setting examples for their children.

*Technically, when I finished writing this post, it was 3 minutes before midnight, and so still Mother's Day. (I believe my leap-year birth day way squeezed in the same way.) I could have gotten it posted sooner, but I would have had to pass on the chance to read with my son.

Mary Cassatt painting, "Emmie and Her Child" (1889) via the Australian National University's ArtServe.