Cover
Story
A STUDY IN MOTHERHOOD

  By Iqra Asad

Motherhood is much more than ten letters, that goes without saying. It is a three-syllable noun. Incidentally, there is this 24-hour bracket that comes around every 8736 hours dedicated to "celebrating" motherhood. Wow, a whole 24 hours, this motherhood thing must be something important. If it's important enough as all that, it must be worth going into the depth of it. Turns out there is a lot more than can be said here, but we can have a look at some of the finer aspects of motherhood.

VIP treatment

Case study #1: Mother looks out the window to see her preschooler toddling across the lawn. His pursuit of a butterfly is interrupted as he falls flat on his face. Instead of breaking into ear-splitting yells calculated to put the most strong-throated of opera singers to shame, he quickly picks himself up and resumes his study of wildlife. Mother is astonished. She goes out to ask her little boy why he didn't cry. His answer, "Oh, I didn't know you were nearby."

Case study #2: Somewhere in their teens, people enter a phase called GROWING UP. This GROWING UP is different from the growth they undergo when they shoot up from little children into big children. Some symptoms of this phase are

n going from silence to 500 decibels in 0.5 seconds

n reacting to a lack of a household commodity like clean towels or toothpaste with the wrath of a general being informed of the desertion of his troops

n using words like "touché" and "capiche" to show they can pronounce them even if they can't spell them

n sprouting electrically charged hair and/or fly-sized beards

Though the symptoms are visible to the world at large, it is the mother who is on the receiving end of most of the GROWING UP (behaviour?). That is because people instinctively know that a mother will bear an amount of GROWING UP that will make other people throw you out of their homes. Therefore mothers worldwide are blasted regularly with GROWING UP and other mother-only strains of behaviour.

Management and know-how

Over the course of bringing up her children, a mother is expected to know

n How to divide five slices of pizza evenly among three children without provoking World War III.

n What to do when her child starts bawling in the face of a doting relative.

n The names of friends and their mothers, teachers and the best friend's canary.

n The answer when she is quizzed on the identity of Ronaldinho or John Cena or the intricacies of Pokemon cards or Beyblade.

n Why bubbles form and stars twinkle.

and a wealth of other things which would, in themselves, make an entire encyclopedia.

Worrying

Making the decision to have a child--it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.

-- Elizabeth Stone

That explains why mothers worry so much; because they care. This can be best illustrated by the story of the camp leader who, after a severe thunderstorm that was big enough to be mentioned in the news, received calls upon calls from the mothers of the campers wanting to find out if their children were OK. He thought, "Mothers! They are just too protective. They don't know when to let go." The next time the phone rang it was his own mother calling to make sure he was OK.

Never underestimate the worth of carrying a mobile phone unless you want to arrive home two hours late to see security forces deployed around your house and a helicopter with a searchlight chugging overhead. "Thank God, you're all right!" is something you'd expect coming home from war instead of coming home from college, but to a mother, there is no such thing as a rational explanation. When her child cannot be contacted, a mother's worry meter goes something like this:

 15 minutes: The traffic must be bad.

30 minutes: Something must have gone wrong.

32 minutes: Something HAS gone wrong.

321/4 minutes: Call the police! Something has happened to my child!

Looking at what goes on in the world, one gets an idea of the horrors contained in a mother's "something could have happened"; one really can't blame her. Compare the image of coming home to a concerned mother to one of a mother who opens half an eyelid as her child comes in three hours late with a cursory "wipe your shoes on the mat, dear". Which is more disturbing? Children are the only creatures who get a truckload of prayers from their mothers simply because they exist. Cherish it!

"Mother's Day" all year round

Just like motherhood does not last for a single day, appreciation and care cannot be confined either. The currency of love is action, and small everyday deposits make a big difference. Here are some deposits you can make; you will be familiar with it all as the language of humanity is universally acknowledged, if not implemented. Most of this works for dad as well.

Communication:

n Ask her about her day and, more importantly, listen. 

n When she is talking to you, give her your undivided attention. That means muting the TV, turning off the computer monitor, pausing the game, or putting the mobile phone aside, even if you are just required to listen instead of converse.

n When something she has cooked is good, compliment her, but don't skimp on the honesty and compliment the experimental recipe she took off Masala just to be tactful. She (and your stomach) will appreciate honest feedback.

n Thank her when she does something for you. The philosophy "there are no thank-yous or sorries in close relationships" is bunk. Relationships thrive or deteriorate on small things and sincere appreciation (or lack of it) tops the list.

n If there is one person on earth you should swallow your ego to apologise to, it's your mother. A sincere apology, not the screwing-up-your-face-and-spitting-it-out type.

Understanding:

n Try to understand her (what an alien concept!) when she forbids something instead of grumbling and fussing that she doesn't understand you. If you don't understand now, you will some day, as Ray Romano said, "The more I go through parenting, the more I say I owe my mother an apology."

n Dinner is late? She forgot to do something you asked her to do? Don't blow your top. She is human too.

n When you go out, tell her when you'll be home and call her to inform her if you'll be late instead of using the "you're always interrogating me about when I'll come back" approach.

Giving:

n A massage is the best thing to give unasked after a hard day. One thing to do is position your fingers around the neck and, using your thumbs, work on the part of the upper back your thumbs can reach from that position. It's a relief-giver for a stressful area.

n Dishes in the sink, dirty socks in the washing basket, shoes in the proper place…you know the drill. A clean room is a wonderful thing to give, but it is even better if you cut down on the frustration of everyday nagging and keep it clean.

n Hugging does wonders. Remember, you are never too old to kiss your parents goodnight. Even if doing it will make them wonder if you are ill, it is a good thing to try.

At the end of the day, the best thing to give your mother is a good you. After all, you are the entire point of the thing, aren't you?

Millie's Mother's Red Dress

Sacrifice is an inevitable part of motherhood but well-intentioned mothers tend to go further along the path of self-sacrifice than is actually necessary. This becomes nothing short of crime when her family, instead of realising that she can be a good--no, better--mother without sacrificing so much, considers it her duty to do so. The following case is an extreme one but it makes one realise and reflect upon this injustice.

It hung there in the closet

While she was dying, Mother's red dress,

Like a gash in the row

Of dark, old clothes

She had worn away her life in.

They had called me home

And I knew when I saw her

She wasn't going to last.

When I saw the dress, I said

"Why, Mother--how beautiful!

 I've never seen it on you."

"I've never worn it," she slowly said.

"Sit down, Millie--I'd like to undo

A lesson or two before I go, if I can."

I sat by her bed

And she sighed a bigger breath

Than I thought she could hold.

"Now that I'll soon be gone

I can see some things.

Oh, I taught you good--but I taught you wrong."

"What do you mean, Mother?"

"Well--I always thought

That a good woman never takes her turn,

That she's just for doing for somebody else.

Do here, do there, always keep

Everybody else's wants tended and make sure

Yours are at the bottom of the heap.

"Maybe someday you'll get to them.

But of course you never do.

My life was like that--doing for your dad

Doing for the boys, for your sisters, for you."

"You did--everything a mother could."

"Oh, Millie, Millie, it was no good--

For you--for him. Don't you see?

I did you the worst of wrongs.

I asked for nothing--for me!

"Your father in the other room,

All stirred up and staring at the walls--

When the doctor told him he took

It bad--came to my bed and all but shook

The life right out of me. 'You can't die,

Do you hear? What'll become of me?'

" 'What'll become of me?'

It'll be hard, all right, when I go.

He can't even find the frying pan, you know.

"And you children--

I was a free ride for everybody, everywhere.

I was the first one up and the last one down

Seven days out of the week.

I always took the toast that got burned.

And the smallest piece of pie.

"I look at how some of your brothers

Treat their wives now

And it makes me sick, 'cause it was me

That taught it to them. And they learned.

They learned that a woman doesn't

Even exist except to give.

Why, every single penny that I could save

Went for your clothes, or your books,

Even when it wasn't necessary.

Can't even remember when I took

Myself downtown to buy something beautiful--

For me.

"Except last year when I got that red dress.

I found I had twenty dollars

That wasn't especially spoke for.

I was on my way to pay it extra for the washer.

But somehow--I came home with this big box.

Your father really gave it to me then.

'Where are you going to wear a thing like that to--

Some opera or something?'

And he was right, I guess.

I've never, except in the store,

Put on that dress.

"Oh Millie--I always thought if you take

Nothing for yourself in this world

You'd have it all in the next somehow

I don't believe that anymore.

I think the Lord wants us to have something--

Here--and now.

"And I'm telling you, Millie, if some miracle

Could get me off this bed, you could look

For a different mother, 'cause I would be one.

Oh, I passed up my turn so long

I would hardly know how to take it.

But I'd learn, Millie.

I would learn!"

It hung there in the closet

While she was dying, Mother's red dress,

Like a gash in the row

Of dark, old clothes

She had worn away her life in.

Her last words to me were these:

"Do me the honour, Millie,

Of not following in my footsteps.

Promise me that."

I promised.

She caught her breath

Then Mother took her turn

In death.

-- Carol Lynn Pearson