"What Moms Want"
by Nancy Kennedy
An excerpt from her book Lipstick Grace: Glimpses of Life, Love, and the Quest for the Perfect Lip Gloss
When my daughters were younger and Mother's Day would come
around, every year they would ask the same question: "Mom, what do you
want?" And every year I would give the same answer: " I want you
to make your beds every day, keep your rooms clean, and be nice to your
sister." Then they would laugh and say "No, Mom -- what do you
really want?"
My theory is that mothers never get what they really want
for Mother's Day. My mom always asked for a shower cap, and my
grandmother always asked for a wallet. They got perfume and bath
oil. Once I polled some friends about what they really wanted for
Mother's Day. One stared blankly and said, "An entire day without
hearing, 'Buy me, drive me, fix me, get me, or give me." Another
said, "To have someboday else put the toilet paper on the
roll." Other women asked that their favorite hairbrush not be used
on the dog, their eyeliner pencil not be used for homework, and their good
washcloths not be used to wipe out the fish tank.
Mothers never get what they really want.
Maybe it's because we want the impossible. We want a
baby and we want to sleep. We want healthy toddlers and
couches that aren't smeared with graham cracker slobber. We want active teenagers
and sanity. We want well-adjusted adult children who move out of the
house (and stay out), and we want them to be our babies again.
Last Mother's Day was my first as a grandmother. This
Mother's Day will be my last with a child at home. By the end of this
month, my youngest daughter will be moving to North Carolina to finish school
and start life as an adult. She had a practice run for a few months last
year when she moved out, but it didn't "take."
This time she'll be five hundred miles away, not fifteen.
It's what I want for her -- autonomy, independence, new
horizons, new opportunities. But I also want her three years old again,
wearing that blue dress with the big white collar and bright pink bow and her
dirty high-top sneakers, tugging my arm and asking for a "jinka
juice."
I'd settle for her not leaving her shoes in the kitchen for
me to trip over -- even just for one day!
Like I said, moms want the impossible.
That's okay, because nothing is impossible with God.
So with that thought, here's my Mother's Day want list. It's what I
really want, not for myself, but for my daughters:
Alison and Laura, above all, I want you o know that you are
loved. Your dad and I love you imperfectly, but you have a Father in
heaven who loves you perfectly. We have and will disappoint you, but God
never will. I want you to know that deeply and intimately.
I want you to be fulfilled in your life. To find
somethings that gives you purpose and meaning, Something that as you do
it you can say, "This is why I was created!"
I want you to sleep well at night -- to live with a clear
conscience and without guilt. No worries because you know that God has
you firmly in His grip.
I want you to laugh heartily. I want you to sing and
dance and play.
I want you to live in grace, no obligation. I want you
to experience worship, not drag yourself to church because it makes Mom
happy. I want you to know that belonging to Jesus is a good thing, not a
burden.
And, even though you are far away, what I really, really
want...I want you to make your beds every day, keep your rooms clean -- and be
nice to your sister.
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