No Kidding Around About Parenting

Why do moms get such a bum rap, as the lingo used to go in old time gangster movies. I mean, you've seen it dozens of times. Think TV comedy series. Phone rings. Handsome actor frowns and says, "It's my mom. Don't answer it." Laughter. The audience relates. Think dramatic movie. Aging actress in a moment of angst frantically removes all pictures of her daughter from the wall. Nervous laughter. Audience relates. Think Shakespeare. Okay, I was never really into Shakespeare so I can't pull up a specific example, but even sweet William had a mother so I'm sure she shows up somewhere in his works.

And when was the last time a husband said to his wife, "You're just like your mother," to have her smile and said "Oh, thank you, Honey!" Hug, hug.

Try these on for size:

Do we HAVE to invite your mother?
Why can't YOU just call my mother?
Can you BELIEVE what your mother has done now?
Oh, no, not my mother AGAIN?
Sorry, you KNOW how mothers are, right?

I think I have it figured out. In the wild, generally speaking, the father, well, he fathers... and heads out to... father with another female, never to be seen again. The mother sticks around to raise the young and take the flak when the young become old enough to bite back and say, "Hey, I'm outta here!" So maybe moms are more in the picture when it comes to creative portrayal because... they're more in the picture in real life. Generally speaking.

Sticking with the metaphor of animals in nature, consider the young. They wriggle their way out of the womb into the big wide world, nurse when mom allows it and romp about looking adorable, nap in the sun with mom looking out for predators, and then let's say she teaches them to become predators, and off they go to, uhhh, find their own meals, until they are big enough and strong enough and cocky enough to flash mom their backsides as they kick dust in her face and leap and dart off to live their own lives. There, I've said it.

But wait, there's more. Time passes and if hungry mom and her hungry offspring happen upon the same available carcass in the brush, do they hug warmly and settle down to share? Oh hell no. It's tooth and nail, and maybe to the death. With the younger of the two most likely emerging as the victor.

Well, I don't know about you but I'm a mom and I'm sure feeling like crap right about now.

Oh. Wait. We're not animals in the wild! That's right! We're civilized! And THAT'S why our lives are not as simple or as predictable as theirs. When it comes to one generation finding a way to coexist with another generation, we are called upon to overcome our animal instincts, have our dust ups now and then but get over them, put up with each others' shortcomings, and do the best we can to play nice even when we're tempted to either head for the hills or go in for the kill. We're not animals. We stick around. We may bitch about it, but isn't this precisely why we have the vocabulary that animals don't?

I'm not saying it's easy. In fact I'm saying it's not. Why? Because at some evolutionary level of our being we are still in tune with... the call of the wild. It's the muted voice that reminds us when the going gets tough we always have the option of turning tail and running. I've done it myself, so I know of which I speak. For most of us, somewhere tucked away in our subconscious is the memory of those early days when life was good. And simple. And easy. And we want that back! THAT'S what we think we're running to (illusion) when we run away from reality.

However. Most of us procreate and the saga repeats itself with us in the opposite role. We shake our heads like a bear coming out of the water with trout 'tween teeth wondering how the heck it got all wet. We wonder, How the heck did I get here, I was there last time I looked! We experience the same confusion, the same frustration, the same disappointments and feeling of betrayal that we left behind us in our youth for others to gnaw on while we ate high on life's hog. "This wasn't supposed to happen to me," we whine, reliving our sacrifices and struggles in attempting to do our very best at parenting. Yet happen it did and does, unless you're the exception that proves the rule.

Well, as a mother I submit that if you're a father, just be glad you're not a mother. You're not the brunt of jokes, which leaves you free to laugh louder at them than the females (who may find them humorous until they reach that stage of life known as labor and delivery). As a father you can see cleverness in a movie title such as "Throw Mama From the Train," and if you're married you can be grateful to your wife for remembering your mother's birthday for you every year.

Even my own family makes fun of me, a little like Nora's kids do to her on Brothers and Sisters. Their kids are still little. Their day will come. When it does, Nora will sympathize, empathize, offer uninvited advice to be met by rolling eyes, and the audience will have a good laugh. I laugh too, because sometimes that's what you gotta do to keep from crying.

Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't trade motherhood for anything in the world, and I say that with all sincerity. I'm not complaining. I'm just saying... parenting is the toughest job in the world and you never, ever, ever get it right. It's a good idea to remember that whether you're a mom, a dad, a daughter, or a son. If your moment of truth hasn't smacked you in the kisser yet, don't go peeking around any corners.

I'm just sayin'...