On Mother's Day...

I don't really remember Mother's Day when I was a kid - I'm sure we had them (I'm not actually old enough that they hadn't invented it yet), but my mother died when I was 19 and frankly my memory is not that hot. I remember her birthdays, of course! My dad would bring me with him to the jewelry store to pick out a gold bangle bracelet (what do you get the woman who has everything except good health?) and then to Lord & Taylor's to buy her a robe from me. But Mother's Day? I probably got her a card... maybe we made something in school? I do remember asking (just like my daughter does) why there wasn't a "kid's day" although I don't think my mother answered like I did with an exasperated "Believe me, every day is kid's day"!

I didn't have my daughter until my mother had been gone for 2o years and now she's 10 (go ahead, do the math - I'm old!) so sometimes I wonder if I know what I'm doing here at all. Not that my mother was so great... There were some wonderful things about her and my sister would argue with me on this, but her parenting (particularly of her youngest, late-in-life child) was not exactly stellar. My sister was off to college by the time I started kindergarden so instead of having siblings to be jealous of, I had the TV show JEOPARDY. Every day at lunch I would come home from school for an hour and I wasn't allowed to talk to her because JEOPARDY was on. Then she spent the next half hour on the phone with her sister in Colorado discussing the details of that day's game. My only solace was that surely my cousins were suffering the same indignity. Of course, it wasn't just my mother's attention I wanted. It was the TV too!!! All the rest of my friends got to watch BEWITCHED at lunch and it didn't seem fair that I couldn't. So I went to my best friend's house for lunch where her mom set up TV trays in front of the set and we ate hamburger and rice while watching Samantha and her Darren D'Jour. Something my mother would never have allowed! (Eating in front of the TV??? WE don't do that!) I did enjoy Samantha's parenting skills (wouldn't it have been nice to have had a mom who could wiggle her nose and send the bullies flying through the air into the cotton candy machine in front of the rest of the school?) but she really got the short end of the stick with her own mom, Endora. Made my mom look positively nurturing.

I grew up on a steady diet of TV moms and mom-substitutes... THE BRADY BUNCH and THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY had cute, hip, blonde moms. FAMILY AFFAIR, NANNY AND THE PROFESSOR, HAZEL and COURTSHIP OF EDDIE'S FATHER all had mom substitutes and LOVE, AMERICAN STYLE had no moms at all - but I wasn't really supposed to be up watching that anyway! I certainly didn't recognize my mom in any of those. I always thought I saw her in really disturbing films... ORDINARY PEOPLE and Woody Allen's INTERIORS to name two in particular but let's face it, I'm pretty sure my own teenage drama colored those choices just a little.

These days I find myself wondering what my mom would do in certain situations... When I was 19 and she was dying, I couldn't relate to her - from what I saw, we had less than nothing in common. Now that I am... well, old with a 10 year old daughter who loves to figure skate, I wish I could ask my 38 year old mother how she actually got up at 5 in the morning to take my sister to the rink! I would love to hear how she managed to survive watching her darling daughter fall over and over and over trying to learn a jump that seems ridiculous to even attempt. Did she bring the newspaper? Did she talk to other moms? Where did she get the skating dress made and what did she think when she watched that child glide across the ice, as graceful as a swan? I'd like to know how she managed with a toddler at home when she found out she had an incurable disease. Did she really stop watching soap operas cold turkey just because she kept getting suspicious of my dad? Did she know she was an alcoholic? Was she scared to die?

I have lots of photos of my mother. Many from before I was born when she was quite glamorous. There are a series of portraits where she looks like a movie star, with bright red lipstick and the cigarette that ended up killing her... She definitely doesn't look like a mother at all. I'm pretty sure those are before my sister was even born. There are serious shots of her posed in front of a microphone as Dover, Delaware's "Lady In the News" - I know she was a mother by then, but she doesn't look like one there either. She's not in a lot of my childhood pictures because like me, she was often behind the camera. And then as she got quite sick, she didn't really want any pictures taken of her anyway. But I have two photos that are of the mom I knew - the mom I loved, in spite of my angry teenage self. One is from when I was about my daughter's age - she is alone in the photo and she wears a green dress. She's not actually smiling but she is posing for the camera. It was taken in front of the house my dad grew up in and I'll bet my grandmother (her mother-in-law) took it. My grandmother LOVED to take pictures and she probably liked my mother's dress. I keep that photo in my wallet. The other one is from my high school graduation and everyone is in it. My sister, her husband and their kids, my grandmother, aunts and uncle and cousins... they came from all over to see me graduate from high school. I thought that was kind of ridiculous. Did they think I wasn't really going to make it??? But now I think they all just came because they didn't know if they'd see my mother again. She only lived another 14 months so I guess they were right. That photo is on my piano. I remember my next door neighbor took the picture so we could all be in it. If you look closely you can see the tubes from my mom's oxygen tank but she looks pretty happy. I guess she didn't expect she'd make it that long. And I didn't think she'd ever leave.

So now I parent out of books. When my daughter was a baby, I read Dr. Sears and Dr. Brazelton the way other people just called home for advice. I dog-ear articles in Woman's Day and read parenting blogs. Last year I even bought a book called "Your Nine Year Old" because a friend recommended it - a friend who still has a mother even! And sometimes I just do what I feel like... and then I know exactly what my mother would say. Because I hear her words coming out of my mouth. And sometimes that's okay. And sometimes I think "What would Carol Brady do?" and that's okay too. We all screw our kids up anyway... one way or another. Instead of the memories I have of a mother who was never there, my daughter will have memories of a mother who was always there, whether she wanted me there or not. And there will be plenty of times to come when I'll be hovering and she'll wish I wasn't... And she'll probably resent me. But today was Mother's Day and I got two e-cards, a poem and a t-shirt. And a LOT of "I love you, Mom"s. Today was a great day.

Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers out there!

The politics of volunteering...

What is that saying? "If you need something done, ask a busy person"? Well, apparently I must look pretty busy because everywhere I turn lately, someone is asking me to volunteer for something! Now don't get me wrong, I'm always happy to bake cookies for the bake sale, bring waters for the class trip or snacks for the basketball team. I don't even mind signing up on the volunteer sign up sheet to chaperone the occasional field trip or supervise the class at recess during teacher appreciation week. In fact, (and not to toot my own horn but hello! Toot toot!!) I run one of the largest fundraisers at my daughter's school, spending the better part of 4 months in slave-like devotion to a money-making, prize churning machine. So it absolutely pisses me off that I seem to be number one on everyone's speed dial when it comes time to find a volunteer. Aren't I volunteering enough for all of us??? Do they really think I have nothing better to do than give up what little free time I have managed to carve out for myself doing something I am not even interested in for someone who is not even a close, personal friend??

Okay, I'm particularly touchy about this because right now I'm in a position where I have to ask people to volunteer. It's a peculiar job - I'm on the nominating committee for the PTO board. I'm basically asking people to take on a HUGE job for little to no reward other than being ridiculously helpful to your child's school. Now, it's no secret that I continue to be the chairperson for said behemoth fundraiser year after year so that I WON'T have to take on one of these other jobs because I prefer to work VERY hard for 4 months and then recuperate instead of working VERY hard for 10 months and then self-destructing. Yet, somehow in addition to chairing "my" fundraiser, I end up "volunteered" as the person who ropes other innocent people into the very jobs I won't take. I know. It's wrong on SO many levels.

But what's REALLY wrong about this whole thing is the attitude of so many when a person says no. Don't get me wrong, I've certainly spent my share of time wondering what in the world little Susie's mother is so busy doing that she can't even return my email when I ask if she can volunteer 30 minutes of her time at the "weepul table" (don't ask) and I admit I have looked askance at the mom running away after drop off, dressed in tennis whites, when she has angrily explained that her job is simply too demanding for her to be anywhere but IN HER OFFICE from 7 am to 7 pm. Unless she is "tennis pro to the stars", I think I've been had. No, the thing that drives me crazy is the person who truly believes that your "no" is just an opportunity for them to KEEP ON ASKING YOU. Like the child who pleads for one more piece of candy, over and over and over and over and over, until you finally give in or go insane, this person will stand in front of you, speaking English and responding to light and sound, and yet act as if you are a TV with the mute button on.

I am in awe of those of you who can say no - just "no" without a long, involved, guilt-ridden explanation. Those of you who value your time (and your family's time) enough to protect it. I know that some of you really wish you could volunteer more but your job makes it impossible or you have family responsibilities that take up a lot of your time. When I say "yes" to a volunteer request, it's you I'm thinking of. I'm thinking that I'm lucky to have the time and energy to help. But sometimes... sometimes I just wish I had an unlisted phone number.

It's probably not a surprise that I'm a person who finds it hard to say no. I'm also the one who believes if no one is going to do it, I'd better go ahead and do it. But experience has taught me that if I don't step in and "save the day", generally someone else will. They may not do it the way I would have or the way you wanted it done, but they will do it because no one else did. And if I stepped in, they would never have had to. And what if someone doesn't volunteer? What if I say no and no one else says yes? Will the world fall off its axis?? Will California fall into the sea??? Will the school have to actually CLOSE???? Probably not. Sadly, I am not as important as I like to think I am. And if it's a job that no one wants to do, perhaps it is not a job we need to have. But I don't have to turn myself upside down, neglecting my family, friends and job, in order to fill your position. So I really DO resent when you don't hear me when I say "no". Because I say yes FAR too often. And I guess by saying yes too often, you think I'll say yes to anything. So no - I will not make your posters, man the cash register, run the arts and crafts class, help you move or head up the PTO. And it's not because I don't like you or think those are not important jobs or that I think I'm too good to do them. It's because I'm ALREADY TOO BUSY with what I've previously agreed to volunteer for and there are 6.5 billion other people on the planet and I would appreciate it if you would give one of them a chance to say yes. And I promise, if you say no to me, I will hear you.