Her Name is Mom

When we were young women, we were concerned with taking care of ourselves; getting an education, looking our best, having great friendships, finding the right guy, travelling, partying and overall looking out for "me".

We got married and most of us, at some point, decided to start a family.

When we found out we were preganant we committed to good nutrition, maybe a prenatal yoga class if we had the energy, a maternity wardrobe. We decorated the baby room like were

 Martha Stewart's apprentices and read all the latest books that spewed regergitated advice on how to be a great, super fantastic, state of the art mother.

The truth is no book, no advice from the super mom squad pepared us for what was to come.

The minute our baby was born, we were lost. 

Lost in a love that is more powerful than any force on earth or heaven.

The YOU, you were ceased to exist and you became "Mom".

That tiny baby holds your heart in the palm of their hand. They hurt, you hurt a million times more, they cry, you cry harder, they laugh, you laugh louder.

Every mistake they make you feel the pain.

Every accomplished they experience, you experience it more profoundly.

Sleep and peace of mind become elusive memories.

Your life is filled with homework, birthday parties and scrambling from one sporting event to the next.

You become a chauffeur, ATM machine, laundry service, and on demand personal assistant.

You do it all willingly.

The years buzz by faster than a supersonic jet streaking through the sky.

Eventually, and a lot faster than you think, that sweet chubby baby becomes a teenager, and worrying becomes your full time job! You worry incessantly about the poor choices they may make; drinking , drugs, sex, bad peer groups, driving.  And you wonder why your hair falls outs, you have bags under you eyes and you feel exhausted 99.99 percent of the time!

The most difficult thing to accept is that you have little control over them. You can only hope that their frontal lobe is working better than most.

The day will come when they leave and chaos no longer reigns the home and you find yourself wondering who you are.

The sense of loss is profound.

You remember every moment. The bedtime stories, the goodnight kisses, family vacations, birthday parties, hockey and soccer games, the tears, the joys and everything in between. You wouldn't trade a single moment.

For so many years you were MOM!

Of course you will always be MOM, you will always worry and fret, but now you must find that girl who gave herself over to being MOM.

She is in there somewhere, waiting.

Believe that you are Wrong About Everything

I recently read a book called The Subtle Art of Not Giving A F.uck

Between laughing and nodding my head in agreement about a thousand times, I've come to realise that I really don't know much about anything and that most of the time I'm wrong about how I perceive things to be, in judging what other's actions mean and about most things in general.

Really?

Yes, really. Everything that we experience is tainted by our perception and past experiences and how we remember them. Memories change as they fade. We forget details so we add our own :), we embellish to give an experiences colour and flavour. It's not that we lie, it's just how it is.

Naturally, the events that hurt us the most, or the memories of the people who slight us are the ones that get the best editing. 

Why? 

Because it validates our indignation and hurt.

So here's the thing.

The book got me to wondering about many things.

Most importantly the amount of time I spend caring about things that don't really matter and worrying about things I have no control over.

Which is all so exhausting!

When children become adults and get married how much time do we spend worrying about if they eat fruits and vegetables, if they wear seat belts, go to their annual check ups, brush their teeth with an electric tooth brush, apply sunscreen. Honestly, the list never ends!

No matter how much preaching we do they don't listen and most likely make fun of our nagging when we're not there.

So don't give a f...

Worry about your own fruits and vegetables!

What goes around comes around and one day they will have children and look back and think, "shit now I know what my mother was talking about!" If you're lucky to still be alive, the last laugh will be yours.

Running down the long list of what you to give a f... about. 

Siblings that don't get along and fail to see that life is a short ride and they're too busy caught up in the said, she did, he didn't do. Get over it, no one is perfect. We all screw up. Some more than others. And what's the truth of it anyways?

Employees who can't get the job done.

Why spend time trying to change a tree trunk that won't bend?

Instead of spending exhaustive hours complaining about them,

show them the door and move on to the next tree.

Friends make you feel like shit?

Find new ones.

That's right liberate yourself and find things that you give a f... about that matter in your new found list of things you give a f... about.

Thanks Mark Manson!
Happy hunting my friends!