More often than not my oldest daughter comes home from school, only to find me exactly where I was when she left: at the kitchen sink, scrubbing away at the latest round of dishes. She looks disgustingly at my yellow rubber gloves and ventures to ask, “so, how was your day?”
She knows already what I’ve spend my day doing. She knows because when she goes into her bedroom there will be a pile of clean clothes, folded neatly and set at the edge of her bed. She knows because she smells the scent of homemade wheat bread, wafting through the air. She knows because the library books she asked me to return have been turned in, with nary a late fee in sight.
She knows precisely what I spend my days doing. And, quite frankly, it bores her.
She has big dreams, this girl of mine. Dreams far more ambitious than mine ever were. Whereas I dreamed of being a mother, she dreams of a fancy career in marketing. Whereas I knew in my heart of hearts that I was born to be someone’s mommy, she questions whether or not she wants to be a mom at all.
We’re so very alike in so very many ways. Ask anyone; they’ll tell you. If she’s not your clone, Darc, I don’t know who is… is what I’m told. They mistake me for her and vice versa when one of us answers the phone. She’s impatient and independent and just a tad too mature for her own good, just like her mother dearest.
But we’re different too. In lots of ways. And learning to accept some of those differences can be confusing. Hard, at times.
Every once in awhile I read too much into those pitying eyes of hers. Inwardly, I wonder how she can possibly overlook the significance of what I do. I wilt, just a little.
But only a little because I know that one day she’ll look back and appreciate that her jeans were always clean and that her meals were always square. She’ll go away to college, only to come home because she can’t possibly go asingledaymore without a steaming bowl of mom’s minestrone. She’ll suffer a broken heart and miss having mom to come home to.
Only then will she get it.
For now, she questions why I’ve made the choices I have.
Little does she know that creating a soft spot in a world of sharp edges means more to me than the fattest of paychecks. That quieting the constant static that exists outside these four walls gives me unspeakable joy. Unmatched contentment.
The other day, she slaved in the kitchen baking a batch of chocolate chip cookies for her friend’s birthday. The next morning, in a rush to get out the door, she grabbed a peanut butter cup from the pantry and asked:
Do you think it would be good if I sandwiched this between two cookies?
{turning up my nose} Um, no. Why?
Haley always frosts and decorates cookies for other people’s birthdays. Mine look plain.
Her face clouded at the thought. But a quick check of the pantry left me beaming.
Ten minutes later I presented her with jazzed up cookie pops to take to her friend. She turned to me, eyebrows raised, and very matter of factly said you’re amazing. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm, not a lick of satire. She meant it.
And for the briefest of seconds, my heart fluttered.
She wonders why I’ve made the choices I’ve made.
The answer: moments like those.
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“…creating a soft spot in a world of sharp edges means more to me than the fattest of paychecks.”
Amen, my friend. Amen.
Very well said, Darcie, very well said!
You make your grandmother’s heart burst with pride and joy. Love to you both, Torri and Darc. I am one that often calls Torri by her Mom’s name only because she reminds me so much of her you.
You are both amazing.
And I have to know how you got the sticks to stay in those cookies when they were already baked…
I love this – my eldest is at the same stage … I hope some day she’ll “get it”, but I think I will be waiting a while!
You’re such a cool mom!
Its nice to hear from you again. You are amazing! I have the same question as Becca….. and you just happened to have icing ready to go? I can’t imagine you bought the pre-made stuff.
You are such a great mom! I wish I could be more like that.
Tears, Darcie. So good. I can only hope my daughter grows up to be such a pleasant teenager. I’m sure you have your moments. But one small passing comment like that makes all the little squabbles insignificant, doesn’t it?
She is so beautiful.
u both r so blessed to have each other and I so blessed to have u
Awesome. You and I are like two peas, I think! I have absolutely no desire for a paying job. And I can only ever remember wanting to be a mom.
My daughter isn’t old enough yet, but I wonder what she is going to think of me, and of what I do.
I hope there will be moments like this.
It’s moments like these that amke it all worth while. Keep them right where they belong, in your heart…..Don’t ever let them go and don’t ever forget them.
Um, K I’m crying now. Great post. So beautifully written.
My son is just like me, picky to the core when it comes to eating, chatty to the point of being annoying, and loves to love people, know people and be with them so much. I’t amazing to see yourself in them.
It’s also amazing to be able to watch them grow up and be home for them. My mom didn’t have that pleasure and I’m so glad I do.
Loved this post Darcie. So glad to read your stuff :)
You both are so beautiful and I love this post. I’m glad your daughter is able to see all the hard work you do and the joy you take in being a mother. I too have always dreamed of being a mother. For many logistical reasons, I do work outside the home 3 days/week, but I will say nothing beats my stay-at-home days. I also found out really quickly that some days are far from boring!
I’m going to echo Becca – how did you get the sticks to stay in the cookies? Were the cookies really soft and chewy (my favorite!)?
Wonderful post. I am having a hard time with my teen right now, but every once in awhile I get a glimpse of “my mom is okay” or a spontaneous hug. You are a wonderful mom…and wife, friend and WRITER.
I linked here from Metropolitan Mama and I just had to say thanks for this post. It made me tear up just a little. I have a 3-year-old daughter and we’re best friends. We enjoy doing the same things, but mostly are just happy being in each other’s company. But I’m realistic enough to know that she’s going to grow up and it won’t always be like this. So I’m just going to enjoy all the little moments with her in the meantime.
Beautifully written, Darcie.
It’s a strange irony, but…the “little things” (scrubbing dishes, cooking dinner, talking with our children, etc.) are actually the “big things.” In many ways, those things matter most of all.
It’s just hard to see that when you’re 15 and the great big world out there looks so sparkly and enticing… ;)
This is absolutely beautiful. And you ARE amazing. :-) I’d have never done that! LOL.
You are an incredible Mom. And mom to mom, we know it’s the most important work that we’ll ever do. This mom though would never be able to create such instant cookie gift magic. I’m still looking for my domestic talents to shine through. LOL
Just found you blog from MM, Love this post about your choice to be a mother. It sounds like your daughter is very blessed to have you for her mother. I’m sure she will look back on these times and admire you.
This post is amazing. I will be saving it in my favorites to remind me down the road. One inevitable day when my daughter grows and sees my days as a housewife as boring. This reminds us all what it’s really about! Glad Jo-Lynne lead me here today. Beautifully written.
I too am looking for the recipe for how you made those darling cookies!!!
My girls are now 31 and 27 and I can tell you that they “get it” now. It is beautiful and there is nothing like the friendship between a Mom and a grown daughter. It is heaven-sent. Great post.
Oh, this is perfect. I never *really* wanted to be anything other than a SAHM, but there were still times that I looked down on what my mom (a SAHM) did for me – and you’re so right that we just can’t really ‘get’ it until we’re adults & we’re doing life & especially when we’re doing parenting on our own!!!
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