I remember one day when I was a child, maybe 9 or 10 years old, when my family decided to go sledding together. We ended up at the elementary school near my grandmother’s house, the school that my mom used to go to as a kid. There were many people there, since they had a really great sledding hill, and all of them were strangers to me. We stood there at the top of the hill, looking around and figuring out where to park ourselves when my mom just threw herself on the ground, started rolling around, throwing snowballs and making snow angels.
My immediate thought was “Oh my gosh, she’s crazy! Someone is going to see her!” But in a matter of seconds the 9-or-10-year-old me was on the ground, participating in the craziness.
Sitting here now, more than 20 years later, that memory is still as vivid and bright as the day that it happened. There was nothing special about the day – it was a snow day, one of many, and we were together as a family, as we always were. But, seeing my mom in that moment, completely carefree and happy, and remembering how fun it was, and how happy we all were… THAT is what made the memory stick in my head all of these years.
Twenty years and five kids later, I find myself in that same spot in life as my mom was way back when. I think about my days and how they are full of routines, schedules, and maintaing peace and order. I’m running defense, I’m running offense, I’m playing peacemaker, maid, cook, teacher, and more. My mind is on bills, appointments, commitments, and activities. Ultimately, I’m constantly reminding myself what needs to be done – when, and where. With a life like that, and a personality like mine, it’s easy to need to feel the need to be in control of everything.
With control comes stress. With stress comes irritability and impatience. And with impatience and irritability comes Mean Mommy. And we all know how we feel after Mean Mommy comes out. And we all know that that is not how we want our children to remember us. Of course, inevitably, they will remember that one time Mommy really lost her cool. But for the most part, they will remember the good times, planned or not.
While trying to have peace and order – or control – I have to keep Mean Mommy in check. I often have to consciously make an effort to let go of the reigns, let loose, and let things happen. Let the moments happen. Let the memories happen.
A few weeks ago, all seven of us were gathered around the dinner table. Supper was finishing up, and my husband and I just sat there, digesting, as we observed our children talking and giggling to themselves while they took the last few bites of their dinner. As we sat there, pushing the last bits of food around on our plate, I mentioned how the last time we had quinoa, dinner ended up in a food fight. And with that, my husband said, “Well now we absolutely have to have another one!” I tried to say no, but I could tell by his face that he had more or less already made up his mind. Of course, if I would have thrown a complete hissy fit and brought out Mean Mommy, there would have been no throwing of any food. Instead, I let go of the reigns and backed down.
It was amazing how quickly the boys reacted when my husband yelled “FOOD FIGHT!!!!” Almost instantaneously there were handfuls of meatloaf being thrown across the table. Pellets of quinoa were all over the place. Ketchup dripped off of my son’s ear. The chaos, shrieks of excitement, and shrill hollering (by me) lasted approximately 90 seconds. And as we started to clean up, the kitchen sink sprayer became a water gun, and the shrieks and hollering started all over again.
As the boys ran upstairs to pull off their soaking wet, meatloaf splattered clothes, I stood at the kitchen sink putting dishes into the dishwasher. My husband came up behind me and put his arms around me, and pulled me into a good hug. Before kissing me and heading off to help clean our children, he whispered in my ear, “Thank you. I know how hard that was for you to let happen, but I know that the boys will remember this forever.”
And just like that, I knew exactly what my mom was doing and feeling that day she threw herself down on the snow-covered ground.
