MVP

It was like zero dark thirty on #InternationalWomensDay and I was wrapping up work at the end of a long, long day that started with a two hour delay and ended with attending a child’s sporting event and a fundraiser for a sick friend. And I stumbled upon this article and it gave me a quiet comfort that I.am.not.alone. This working parent thing (really any parent thing) is a wild ride - and being the default parent means that your day is longer than you might like it to be - particularly when you factor in snow days and delays and all the extras that seem to pop up in the course of a day.

That evening, while I was watching one kid play basketball, I was helping another with his homework (because we can’t just do one thing at once). His homework was a Q&A with me so he can turn it in to an essay - he asked me: how do you think people will remember you?

My response: I just hope they will remember that I always tried my best.

His response: I'll remember you as the MVP of my life.

The MVP of his life. I let that sink in for a minute - the MVP of his life. For my football-obsessed boy, this was possibly the nicest kindest most sincerely heartfelt compliment he could summon. But also - isn’t it so true, so often? Our mothers tend to be that person for us, that constant in the chaos. When my boy continued in his interview questions, he asked me who was the person I admired most. Naturally, it was my own mother, who married very young and pursued a college education during the years that her own children were in school. She prioritized education later in her life and always made it a priority for her own children.

And I think my own mother would agree with me when I say that I wouldn’t trade it for the world, this mothering thing. Except she might add to that: grandparenting.

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