"Best..."

This hat comes with a story.

A couple years ago, as Elias and I searched our favorite thrift store, Ukanuzit, for treasures, as we often do, from behind me I heard him say something like: "Mom, I think you need this." And then in his rough awkward manner, he shoved something on my head.

I turned around and yanked it off in one annoyed breath, about to lecture my son about personal space, only to read the gold letters: Best Mom.

I posted the experience on Facebook and a number of friends mentioned that I better have bought the hat.  I returned to Ukanuzit the next day and purchased it. I brought the hat home and hid it. I figured I'd give it to Nick to give to me as a gift from the kids for Mother's Day a month or two away.

Well, I forgot about it on Mother's Day. Remembered the following Christmas, but by then we had moved a handful of times between the rented winter cabins and our summer trailer, as we worked on building our house, and so I couldn't find where I originally hid it.

And then I forgot again about the black hat with gold letters boldly stating: Best Mom.

I often say I was the perfect parent before I had children. Before kids I was sure I would devote myself fully to their growth, health, and development. I would nurture their bodies with only the best organic foods, use cloth diapers, plant-based medicines, homeschool with a dynamic creative curriculum that engaged all their senses. I'd never let my children cry or eat hotdogs or stare too long at a screen.

And then I had kids--and my reality couldn't have landed farther from my imagination.

As I write Elias is spending yet another hour on his iPad checking weather stations, snow reports, and sports scores. Olive is off at Boys and Girl's Club, after a breakfast of Nutella on a bagel. I am content to be alone in my room.

Best Mom, yeah right.

I found the hat this fall, stuffed in one of my messenger bags filled with files, card and papers I'll someday go through--you know, all those important pieces from your life that you stuff away never to look at again.

Nick and I put the Best Mom hat in a gift bag under the tree, from Elias, through Santa. I opened it on Christmas morning. I don't think Elias remembered picking it out at Ukanuzit, or his reaction would have been bigger, but I do, and the memory reminds me of all the times I make assumptions that bite me in the butt.

I wore the hat the other day and when I went to the counter at Sak Town Liquor the clerk said, "So you're the best Mom huh?"

It too me a moment and then I smiled and said, "The best my kids will get."

And that's my new interpretation of the expression: Best Mom.

I am in no way better than all the other Moms in this world, not sitting all regal and proud on the top of the motherhood pecking order. Only doing the best I can given the constant challenges and creative chaos my family faces.

I continue to respond even when I want to ignore the constant call of "Mom".  I am not winning any awards in the parenthood category of life, only continuing to show up and love my two children, even when I want to walk into the snowy woods indefinitely.

Elias came out of his room clapping mad the other night because the socks Santa brought him are not exactly the same as the only socks he likes to wear. He threw the new socks down in the living room and ripped up the tag. Neither Nick or I raised our voice or even really reacted to his anger.

I call that a win.

Elias sleeps with six blankets every night, even in the summer, so we ordered him a weighted blanket for Christmas that he refused to try that first night. The second night I convinced him to let me put it on him as a trial. I showed him the timer on my phone and asked if he wanted to try if for five minutes or ten. He chose ten. "When the timer goes off you can decide if you want to keep it or switch back."

"Ok," he said, staring at the numbers on the clock.

Sure enough, his body melted under the soft weight and he decided to try it for the night after the ten-minute alarm sounded. That was two nights ago and its still the only blanket on his bed.

Another win.

We don't have a dishwasher and I tend to do most of the dishes since Nick does more of the cooking. I recruited Olive to help rinse, a few months back, to much groining and "not-fairing" (dishes and Elias's fine motor/balance challenges tend to clash) and yet now she joins me most nights without being asked. She'll even nudge Nick out of the way if he stands at the sink with me.

I'll call this a victory.

Olive turned eleven this month--a year I've dreaded from my own history of changing from my parents' sweet daughter to a moody disaster of a pre-teen around this same age.

So far, Olive still seems to like us. And as far as pre-teens go, she's a pretty cool one--still no interest in mirrors or make-up, motivated by school and creative projects, and always up for an adventure, if her nose isn't buried in a book. Olive loves Harry Potter and soccer and skiing and crocheting and baking--choosing to make cookies and cupcakes all on her own to give to people in the community. 

I can't claim the win on this one, as my kids bring their own unique spirits with them, but I'll take a moment to rejoice in who they are becoming.

I'll take Olive. I'll take Elias. And I will continue to become their "Best Mom", imperfect but true. The best I can do.

And isn't this true for us all--every single one of us is doing the best we can given our circumstances.

We could all wear hats with gold letters that say Best Partner, Best friend, Best teammate, Best Daughter, Best Employee, Best Self....

Let's imagine these hats on everyone's heads, a whole stack of them proclaiming all our best selves. Lets end this year and start a new one with fewer assumptions and more faith in each other. Less judgement, more acceptance, for ourselves, as well as others.

From my Best Family to yours, Happy New Year!

 

Comments

[Lisa Y]

I love this! My oldest daughter once wrote her teacher a note that said, “You’re the best teacher you can be!” We laughed about it but I think, based on this post, I will embrace being the best mom, wife, SLP, friend *I* can be!

[Sarah Spanos]

Everyone is carrying a load; we need to just be kind as we can not see what it is...mine needs a U-haul at times...maybe even a Japanese tramper.

[Ginna P]

Love this! <3 happy new year from a friend who is doing her best and should probably give you a call soon! Miss y’all.

[Tracy]

a"the best my kids will get." This alone has so much packed into it that it is going to take me a while to go through the feelings it gives me, with the first one being relief.

Happy New Year, Christy. I continue to read your blog as our boys age. I am in shock that our Rob will be 17 at the end of February. I keep trying to be the best I can be for him and for me.

[JUSTINE T PECHUZAL]

I love this idea of 'best'! A great theme for 2021. Thanks for being 'best you' Christy.

[Christy]

Thank you my friends--you are all the "best you" that ever was!!