Motherhood 101

I like to think of myself as a volunteer, but I know better. When I volunteer to give blood, the pain is over quickly and then I get a snack or some juice, a sticker, and a thank you smile from the Red Cross. As a mom, your daily donation of time, tears, sweat, sleep and energy all seem to go unnoticed, unappreciated, often taken for granted. No donut, no juice box, sometimes not even a thank you. This seems to be the lot drawn for moms. We give. We do for. We serve. I understood this when I entered into this whole motherhood thing. But I gotta' tell you, it gets old. This volunteer wants some R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Or jewelry. Yeah, okay, I'd settle for a kiss and a true "thanks for all you do, Mom" and we could call it even.

With this job comes some pretty serious obligations. Never mind the health, safety and moral direction that is your to provide to a precious and innocent human being. That is daunting enough. You've seeen the June Cleaver image that it is we all make some effort to live up to. We make the birthday cakes, help with the science projects, drive them to ballet practice. But it's the nights you lie awake with a sick child, wiping her forehead with a cool cloth or stripping her bed because she threw up that really seals you to your child. It's watching your child experience the consequences of his own mistakes, and then crying with him as he feels the sadness and pain that soon follows. It's seeing the hate and anger in your child's face when they first see you as the enemy and not as your friend, and biting your tongue when you want to say something hateful and mean right back. It's saying the prayers at your bedside asking for protection over your little one in a world that seems especially intent on preying on our youth. Real moms don't reach that TV ideal everyday, or even any day. Real moms volunteer for the dirt and pain and heartache in the trenches of life, and they are rarely rewarded for it. No parades, no purple hearts, no yellow ribbons. Just a little wisdom, some crow's feet grown from worry and weariness, stretchmarks and more gray hair by the minute.

Volunteering has its benefits, don't you forget. We volunteer for the smile of a 6 month-old who now understands that when you are around, so is lunch. We sign up for the swelling in the heart we get when we see a toddler share his favorite toy with his younger sibling. We enlist because when a child lies in bed at night, with the moon on his face, the world is at peace. We make an investment in the world of tomorrow; that our efforts today, though largely unnoticed, will somehow contribute to a strong, beautiful, confident tomorrow. Our job is not easy. It is not something we can quit or delegate to another. Our enlistment is eternal.

So yes, I am a volunteer. An employee of my child, a servant to my sons, maid-in-waiting to my daughter. And as they return home from school today, I intend to ask them to get me a juice box.