mother’s day

Happy Mother’s Day to Me: Dear Mommy

catherinemryan

This guest post is by Katie Karambelas, a fiction writer earning her MFA and a single mom. She blogs about adventure, motherhood and dating in the 21st century at Writing & Wanderlust. In this Happy Mother’s Day to Me series, mothers are celebrating themselves for the dedicated, loving, tireless mamas they are. Check out all the posts in the series!

 

Happy Mother's Day Dear Mommy
Dear Mommy: I love you! Photo by AE Photography

Dear Mommy,

I see you, Mommy. I see you trying not to cry because you are too distracted juggling work and school and you forget to flip my grilled cheese before it turns black. You scrape the burnt part into the sink and flip it over on my plate so I won’t notice.

I hear you, Mommy. I hear you tell me things that I need to hear. I hear you say “I love you” and “I’m so proud of you” and they mean so much to me. I hear the happiness in your voice when you say these things to me.

I see you, Mommy. I see you lifting weights at the gym, trying to get stronger on the outside, even when you don’t feel strong on the inside. I watch Mickey Mouse on my DVD player but I look up every few seconds and I see the sweat dripping, your hair falling out of the too-loose ponytail holder.

I hear you, Mommy. I hear the happiness in your voice when you talk to me about traveling, and I believe you when you tell me that we will go to Paris and I’ll get to see the Eiffel Tower like I’ve been asking since I was only two years old.  Read more →

Happy Mother’s Day to Me: A series to celebrate ourselves

catherinemryan

Happy Mother’s Day! (Well, almost.) This Mother’s Day on my blog, I want to do a little something different.

Happy Mother's Day to meFor the holiday, your kids and your partner might gift you a homemade card, a bouquet, a special breakfast or maybe even a much-deserved morning to sleep in. That’s totally legit. Syrup-sticky kisses in bed and hand-glued art are some of the best perks of motherhood.

But waiting for the gratitude—especially on just one day a year—isn’t enough. That’s why in the two weeks leading up to Mother’s Day this year, I’ll be featuring the stories of mothers writing themselves a message.

Too often, we moms fill the internet and our heads with self-doubt and self-criticism. That’s why this Mother’s Day, I want to flood my tiny corner of the web with mothers celebrating ourselves.

In these guest posts, you’ll hear from moms who walk slowly alongside toddlers and shuttle kids to out-of-state sports tournaments. You’ll hear from moms who kiss boo boos and battle cancer. You’ll hear from moms who delight in the everyday joys of motherhood and slog through the hard times.

These stories are authentic. And they might ring true for you, too.

I hope you join me in the coming weeks to read these Mother’s Day posts. And I hope you’ll share in the comments why you appreciate yourself this Mother’s Day.

It’s time to celebrate ourselves. Are you in?

Happy Mother’s Day!

catherinemryan

Last year was my first Mother’s Day, but in the last year I’ve come to appreciate what the holiday means even more.

Living what it is to be a mother—the millions of choices and actions and books read and songs sung and car seats buckled and tempers checked and lunches fixed and owies kissed every single day—underscores everything the mothers in my own life have done (and continue to do).

mother and daughter moustachesMy own mom believed in me fiercely. She encouraged me to turn every interest or passion into a business, certain that someone would want to buy tiny animals sculpted out of wire or t-shirts covered in my angsty teenage poetry.

Graduation with in-lawsMy mother-in-law has always been unequivocally welcoming and accepting. Her hugs, confidences and phone calls made me feel as if it were a given that I am one of the family. I will never, ever, ever forget or take for granted the way she embraced me as one of her own.

Argentine host mom meets babyMy mama argentina, my host mother when I studied abroad in college, welcomed me as a stranger into her home. Ana and I chatted every night as she made dinner or as I sipped a submarino—a hot chocolate—at the breakfast bar. I left, four months later, as part of the familia and continue to love that collection of characters from afar—even as they expand their families.

great grandma grandpa and grandma with babygrandma Bessie sunflowerfour generations women grandmasAnd my grandmothers, of course, whose mothering I feel through the generations. These strong, beautiful women raised families amid less than ideal circumstances without complaint. My Grandma Hawkins, for example, loves to tell me about the moment when she discovered she was pregnant with twins—my mom and Uncle Steve.

She already had one baby at home and not a whole lot of income or support, but when she got back from the doctor, she stood in the middle of the kitchen and hugged her just-starting-to-expand belly. Then she threw her arms out and spun around. She couldn’t contain her happiness and couldn’t believe her luck that she was carrying twins—twins!—a secret wish she’d always carried.

These are the kinds of moments that make up motherhood. Yes, parenting is also colored with frustrations and peanut butter stains and pooplosions and sleepless nights, but it’s the joy and reward and unending gratitude that stick with us.

day-old newborn with mom hospitalThat gratitude stretches in both directions, toward both generations. I cannot express how thankful I am to my daughter and this growing life inside me for choosing us as their family. I am also thankful to the long line of women who wiped noses and corrected homework and spun in kitchens so that I could be here.

So I’m sending love to all the mamas in my life—the ones who helped raise me, the ones who brought up my loved ones, the ones who I’ve known since they were kids, the ones who struggled so hard to become pregnant, the ones who are celebrating their first holiday as moms. You all deserve to be celebrated every day, but these 24 hours are dedicated to you.

Happy Mother’s Day.

10 Ways I’m an Awesome Mom

catherinemryan

Take a sample of parenting blogs out there and you’ll read a lot of bloopers. But I’m going to own it: I’m an awesome mom.

We mothers, especially, are quick to point out our failings and our foibles. Perhaps it’s easier (or more cathartic) to confess the time you melted a Tupperware lid in the dishwasher, causing poisonous fumes to fill the apartment, than it is to reflect on the millions of other times you scrubbed plates clean without incident. After all, washing the dishes without a hitch—or, for that matter, the millions of unremarkable moments of motherhood—aren’t particularly newsy.

But in anticipation of Mother’s Day (coming up this Sunday for anyone who’s forgotten!), I’m stepping out of the self-deprecating, self-questioning rut I sometimes fall into.

I’m celebrating what a wonderful mother I am. Read more →

22 months

catherinemryan

crazy toddler hairThroughout the month, I’ve collected little vignettes of Peeper being Peeper. I wrote them down as they happened, not wanting to forget the ordinary yet remarkable moments that make up our days.

I just read over them, and it struck me that most of them revolve around Peeper talking.

As she turns 22 months, she continues to bowl me over with her gift of gab. Whether she’s telling us what she remembers the zoo animals doing at our last visit, repeating nonsense words to herself or telling me she loves me, her mouth is motoring nearly all day.

She wakes up talking. “Change your diaper. Lots of pees in there!” she’ll say as I pull open the blinds.

And after I put her in the crib at night, we hear snippets of toddler monologue through the monitor.

I’m glad I wrote down these interactions—they’re the silly little things I’ll want to tell her about when she’s older. I thought I’d share them on the blog, too. Here, then, is a glimpse listen into Peeper’s world. Read more →

Baby footprint crafts [tutorial]

catherinemryan

I’m a big fan of craft projects in general, and I’d seen all those adorable baby footprint pins—butterflies, suns, flowers, you name it—but I had a rough time the last time I’d tried to make something cute with my kid’s feet.

I was an exhausted new mom with grand ideas of making gifts for all Peeper’s relatives. I had bought a big carton of plaster of paris, disposable bowls and straws. I set everything up. I had planned it perfectly: Peeper was as well rested as she’d get, so I was ready.

The result was a disaster. We got plaster all over the kitchen and mashed circles that looked more like a relief map than a Christmas decoration. Peeper was dunked in the bath immediately, and the extended Ryan Gregory clan got nothing under the tree from us. (Wah-wahhhhh.)

For Mother’s Day, a friend helped me recover from my fear of baby print crafts. The results were adorable—cute enough to make in triplicate. (One for each grandma and one for me, of course!) Instructions below

Ten Thousand Hour Mama

I’m going to scan one and make a greeting card of it, too.

These would make a great gift anytime. If you make one, take a picture and send a link. I’d love to see it! And comment below if you have any pointers on getting foot- or handprints. (I belatedly saw this link with tips.) As you can see, I have a bit to learn on that front.

Baby footprint tulip art 

Ten Thousand Hour Mama baby footprint art1. Squeeze red acrylic paint onto a plate and spread it out a bit. Dunk your baby’s foot in the paint and stamp it once or twice on a piece of cardboard to get rid of excess paint.

2. Holding the canvas steady (or better yet, getting someone else to hold it still), lower your baby’s foot onto the canvas. Roll it a bit back and forth to ensure you stamp the whole foot.

3. Repeat the process with the other foot, stamping them with the heels and balls of the feet touching and even overlapping a bit. Let the stamps dry.

4. Squeeze out some green acrylic paint. Put some on a brush and dip the brush in water. (This will give a pretty watercolor effect.) Paint a stem and leaf.

5. Swoon.

6. Sign the masterpiece on behalf of your little one. I wrote Peeper’s name and “Mother’s Day May 2014” on the side of the canvas.

Every day should be Mother’s Day

catherinemryan

Yes, I know that Mother’s Day has come and gone, but moms continue their hard work on the 364 days they don’t get cards and brunch and flowers—so why shouldn’t I write about an amazing mom I know? 

My dearest E,

I know this isn’t your favorite holiday, but I have some things to say, so suck it up!

You are a wonderful mother. That said, this whole parenting thing is effin’ hard. Thank you for not trying to hide that from me. Your transparency has made the transition into motherhood feel less difficult. Ok, maybe not that much less difficult, but at the very least, your letting me see you struggle makes me feel less alone when all I want to do is get in my car, drive away and never look back.

(I don’t feel like that very often these days, but I have felt like that. And when I did, I called you.)

I appreciate your advice. I appreciate that you wait for me to ask for your advice. I appreciate that you couch your advice in terms of what worked for you or what you read or what you wish you’d done differently instead of telling me what I should do or what will work for us.

I appreciate your support. I feel stronger as a person and mother because you are on my side.

I appreciate your willingness to listen anytime. You don’t remind me that I’ve rehashed the same issue a dozen times already. You let me vent even though you’re in the car driving with the family and they all have to listen to me on speakerphone. Have I mentioned lately that you’re one of the best listeners I know?

You will make a scoffing noise at this (STOP THAT RIGHT NOW), but I’ll say it anyway. You are the perfect mother for N. Not the Perfect Mother (and I probably wouldn’t want to be friends with you if you were—how boring) but the best-matched mama for your strong, fierce, lovable, sweet, hilarious, huggable, opinionated, determined, smart little one. I learn how to be a better mother by watching you two.

I am so thrilled for our girls to grow up together. I have a feeling that they’ll come to love each other as much as we love each other. And if the shenanigans we got into together are any measure, the two of them will have A LOT of fun together. (And perhaps cause us an ulcer or two.)

Enough mush.

Ok, maybe just a little more.

I love you! Happy Mother’s Day.

The girls' first kiss
The girls’ first kiss

Is there a mom you know who deserves a compliment, hug or mimosa today? Let her know! Share below, too!

Happy Mother’s Day to the one who loved me first

catherinemryan

Dear Mom,

The last ten months would have been unimaginably harder without you.

You came to the hospital an hour or two after Peeper was born. Your grin didn’t even fit on your face when you met your granddaughter, your first-ever and only grandbaby.

Even amidst your new grandma duties, though, you remained my mom: You brought me a smoothie and asked the nurses questions about my recovery.

Ten Thousand Hour Mama

About a month later, I called you. You thought the phone had gone dead because I didn’t speak at first. There was nothing wrong with the cell reception; I just couldn’t talk because I was crying so hard.

I had been to the lactation clinic earlier that day and everything had gone terribly wrong. My evening looked like this: Two hands were occupied operating the breast pump; one foot rocked a screaming Peeper in her bassinet; the other foot pet Finn and tried to keep him from biting an infected hot spot. And the noise—between her crying and the whomp whomp of the pump, the noise was overwhelming. Peeper wailed and wanted to be picked up but I couldn’t hold her and work that torture device machine at the same time.

So I called you.

That night, you came to my rescue. You left within minutes of my call and drove the two hours to Portland (though much less for you, I’m sure, as you zoomed up I-5). You fed me, held your granddaughter while I pumped, walked Finn and didn’t say anything when I escaped to the shower to cry.

Ten Thousand Hour Mama

Things have gotten so. much. easier. since those grueling months, yet you are still an integral part of our lives. You take care of Peeper every week so I can write and help provide for my family.

When you crack open the door upon your arrival and call out, “Hellooooooo,” Peeper sucks in her breath and flaps her arms—her signal for excitement. Her happiness to play with you doesn’t abate as you read books, go for walks, sing, stack blocks and—of course—take selfies.

[vimeo 94674691 w=500 h=888]

I Love You Edie Mae from Catherine Ryan Gregory on Vimeo.

The time you spend together helps me on a practical level—I’m able to head to the library and write for several solid hours at a time, which could never happen if I were at home. But it benefits me in a non-utilitarian way, too.

It makes me feel so good that Peeper is loved by more than just me and Eric. You and her grandpa adore her, and as she grows up, that unconditional love will make her feel secure and safe.

Ten Thousand Hour Mama

I felt that support from you as my mother, and it is a priceless gift that you’re giving to Peeper.

You may have loved me first, but I love you still.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Ten Thousand Hour Mama