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I normally try to plan my newspaper columns so they are timely when it comes to holidays. Because they are written well in advance of publication and my brain is usually busy doing other things, it’s harder than you think. And sometimes, when your brain is on family overload with kids and quarantine and graduation and such, you just completely forget about your own holiday. And your mother’s holiday. And so on and so forth.
As it turned out, my own missing of Mother’s Day in terms of this section of newspaper was par for the motherhood course. I used this space last week rambling about the life of my daughter during graduation instead of rambling about how special moms are — to have them or to be one. So, actually I was doing what any good mom would do. Putting my kid first.
I know that good moms do this because of learning from my own mother, and you can learn from her, too, if needed, by reminiscing with me a story of a headstrong tomboy, a muddy slope, and a backside of bruises I will never live down.
I’m not sure if everyone out there feels compelled to partake in Mother Nature’s playground, but as a child that’s how I saw it. Big rocks were my jungle gyms. Hills were my slides. Trees were my monkey bars. So it goes without saying that when I was tempted by an older boy to slide down an eroded mud slope full of rocks and tree roots, there was no way I wasn’t going to do it.
I remember sitting on the edge, ready to dangerously launch, and at the last minute my mother jumped in, scooped me up on her lap, and the two of us went sailing down the slide of dirt.
It was a blast for me.
It was painful for my mom.
The bruises she endured from hitting each rock and root on the way down were testament to how she would put my well-being before her own. I know I would do the same thing for my own kids. I think that’s what motherhood (or parenthood) is all about — instinctively putting your kids before yourself. And whether it means a wild ride down a muddy slope in southern Ohio or the simple act of writing words for them instead of yourself, it’s done without a second thought as if we know no other way.
So to the fellow moms out there, a bounty of belated wishes to you.
I’m sure you understand.
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