Happy Mother’s Day to me

KAREN WIGHT

My children don’t read my column. Every once in a while, when I ask

them if it’s OK to talk about them in print, they give me a glazed

look like they’ve never seen me sit down at the computer and peck out

a paragraph.

One year, when I volunteered to be a mentor for one of Harbor

High’s programs, Annie’s response was “Why would you do that, what on

Earth do you do?” That just about says it all.

So, in addition to being a mother, I’m regarded as a

jack-of-all-trades, yet master of none. I’ve come to terms with that.

Motherhood is more complicated than I thought it would be. I naively

thought I would be able to juggle all the balls -- that I could have

it all. Well, I can have it all, just not all at once. I had no idea

when I chose to become a mother that I would fall so madly and deeply

in love with each one of them. I never anticipated that I wouldn’t be

able to leave them every morning and let someone else enjoy their

childhood. I had no idea I would turn into such a sap, but I did, and

I still am.

It’s hard to explain to them how much they mean to me. I don’t

think they’ll figure it out until they have children of their own.

It’s more than love. It’s visceral, undeniable and rooted in the

farthest corners of my soul.

So with the kids I’m a driver, cook, maid and ATM. They don’t see

me as an independent person, as “Karen” ... at least not yet. I’m

just the facilitator who makes the family work. And, to my credit,

the family does work fairly well most days. The ubiquitous “they” say

that I will reap the rewards later -- maybe much later. I certainly

hope so, because the pay has been lousy and the hours even worse.

Outside the family I have a small life, but it’s mostly a life the

kids don’t see, since I squeeze it in between school hours, vacations

and summers. Personally, I need a little extra brain candy, so the

opportunities I get to write or take on a design job keep the gray

matter stimulated on the off chance that when I do reap the rewards

with the kids I might still have something to say.

This year, my Mother’s Day has all the makings of a disaster, so

I’m preparing for the worst. Annie is still at Berkeley, hopefully

studying for finals (that’s another discussion) and after getting a

taste of college life, the dorms in particular, I highly doubt that

the kids’ hallway conversations include “what are you doing for your

mom on Sunday.” A phone call would be nice, I’ll settle for that.

Mary Rose and Ben will be gone at a weekend water polo tournament

until late Sunday afternoon. Don’t start me on the sports and family

compatibility issues, it can get ugly.

That leaves Breck, whose 15th birthday was yesterday. By the way,

happy birthday honey. There is a lot of pressure on this young man

for Sunday. He alone carries the burden that his sisters have left

him with. I’m fairly certain that the girls haven’t given him a lot

of pointers on how to pull off Mother’s Day. I’m not sure their

brains work that way and I know that his brain doesn’t, so I’m going

to outline a simple, yet effective Mother’s Day plan for my son that

you are welcome to pass along to your own progeny.

Mother’s Day morning: Breck, I’m sorely lamenting that you’re not

a year older. I’d really like a coffee house cappuccino, but without

a car that will be hard to do. I’ll settle for hot tea. Use the hot

water dispenser next to the kitchen sink faucet. Caution: this means

that you will have to get out of bed before 10 a.m. Sunday morning.

Pressies: this category is optional, but a card is mandatory. And

don’t just sign it. Write something nice, even if you don’t mean it.

It will make me feel better and someday, when you have a family of

your own, these skills will pay off exponentially. Activities: I

realize that I’m not as fun as your friends, so keep your

expectations low. I can play miniature golf, bowl (badly), sit at the

beach, boogie board or ride a bike; however, take skateboarding,

air-softing and video games off the list of possibilities. I won’t

require your attention for the entire day -- a two-hour window should

do the trick.

Food: As long as I don’t have to order it from a drive-through

window, it’s your choice. I’m not going to fantasize about you

cooking a meal. Quite frankly, the mess isn’t worth it.

Not too hard, eh? What I really want more than anything is just a

little bit of you. Soon enough, you too will be gone at school,

pretending to study or, in your case, you might actually be studying,

bless your heart. I want to remember this Mother’s Day as “our”

Mother’s Day -- the year the rest of the family went AWOL and you and

I were left to our own devices. This year: the year I’m still your

number one girl ‘cause I know that will change with the blink of one

pretty, mascaraed eye. You’ve been officially warned. My maternal

happiness rests on your growing shoulders. But no pressure, right?

And the girls owe you BIG.

* KAREN WIGHT is a Newport Beach resident. Her column runs

Thursdays.