mother's day

I spend all day, every day, being constantly humbled. By science, because there is always something to learn, by people, who are so different from me and filled with so many ideas, and by Lena, because what is more humbling than a kid, who doesn't care what kind of day I've had, how I feel, she’s always there, there, there. Always Lena.

I am in an amazing place, and every day I recognize how grateful, how lucky, how blessed I am. And I am humble. So filled with gratitude, marveling at this life that I have stumbled in to.

Lena is an amazing kid. As a scientist, I get that this is 80% luck, 15% me not being an alcoholic while pregnant, and 5% prenatal vitamins. (Those are really accurate numbers btw because SCIENCE.) But today, Mother’s Day, I want a little credit.

We (women, mothers) so rarely take any credit. There is no time in the day to be selfish, to marvel and say I did that. Today I'm giving myself that gift. I'm letting myself say it.

Lena is amazing. She sits through Seders with grad students, and while reading the four questions, I hear one girl whisper to another, “She reads so well!” My heart swells with pride. We read together every night. I have filled our house with books, and reading is a joy. We share stories out loud each day so that Lena greets new words like new friends: open and excited to learn from them. Today I can think to myself, I did that. 

Lena is not fearless, but she’s brave. She tries things, and she conquers them. She jumps in the pool, she crosses the monkey bars. At the doctor she gets shots like a champ. The first time at the dentist she walked back to the procedure room without looking back. While I cook dinner with the windows open I hear her counting her pogo stick bounces. 99, 100. She catches fish and plays in the ocean. Today I think to myself, I did that.  (Ok---so I’m taking some liberties here. I hate fish and you could not pay me to touch one so I did not literally contribute to that aspect of Lena. But like, I try not to act like a baby in front of her and I encourage her to do different things so like metaphorically I did that. But eugh, fish. No thank you.)

I’m not sure I know what kindness looks like in a seven year old, but Lena is starting to be kind. She says nothing that she doesn't mean with her entire heart. She has never told me that she hates me, in anger. She’s never told me she likes Nana and Pops’ house better, even though she does. She doesn't complain when I tuck us into bed at 7:30, because the world is just too much for me. Lena does not sneer at the choices of other children, how they look, what they read, what they eat. Today I’m letting myself think, I did that. 

Lena is polite, smart, and funny. She wakes up happy. She doesn't complain when we have cereal for dinner. She greets challenges with a smile. She is kind. She is curious. She picks up frogs and worms and fish. She runs, she doesn't walk. She loves. Oh, oh oh, she loves, and she is loved and I did that. 

Ok, so I didn’t do all of it, humble, grateful, village etc etc etc. But today, Mother’s Day. I am being selfish. Today I’m letting myself say it: I’m a damn good mom.

But oh yeah, it’s mother’s day. So what about my mom?

Mom,
Your daughter is trying her best. Your daughter is learning so much, what it means to be kind, what it means to be brave. Your daughter has been through some hard stuff, sure, some of it of her own doing, and she has made it through. Your daughter is a good mom, which makes you a great one.

I love you, Mom, the unsung hero of our family, the most selfless, the most generous. The one who gives and gives and gives, and who we do not give enough in return.

Happy Mother’s Day, Nana. You're the greatest.