
So Mother’s Day has come and gone without any official recognition from LMW. Team members celebrated with their own mothers, wives and children to be sure. But we didn’t wax poetic here on the blog about how hard our mothers worked, and how much we love them.
Which they did. And we do.
What I’ll share instead is a story from my childhood. A tiny incident, really, but one of those moments that for some unexplained reason sticks with you.
It happened during phy-ed when we were probably all of 7 or 8 years old. We were inside the church social hall, our gym, with Mr. Jensen–our phy-ed teacher/librarian/all-around-go-to guy.
He had us in a circle playing a little running game. Run around the circle if you had cereal for breakfast…if you have brown hair…if you’re left-handed…if your mother works.
We all of us ran on that one. All but one. My best friend Wendy stood alone, watching while we circled.
I felt bad, for reasons I couldn’t articulate then and still can’t now. Did I feel bad that she was singled out? Did I think being a stay-at-home mom was something negative? Was I embarassed for her because the rest of us had work-world moms?
I don’t know. But I do remember a moment of awkwardness. Mr. Jensen felt uncomfortable. You could tell. And as we all arrived back at our spots in the circle, he looked over at Wendy and told her, “Don’t ever say your mom doesn’t work.”
The odd thing is, Wendy’s mom DID work. I don’t know if Mr. Jensen knew it, but Wendy’s mom was my babysitter. There were at least three of us she took care of, in addition to her own four.
She baked cakes from scratch, kept us engaged with puzzles and drawing paper, read us stories, and changed diapers (cloth diapers, I remember). And she cleaned. My goodness, she cleaned. That house was spotless.
I wonder what Wendy was thinking. Did she think we’d call her a liar if she ran? Did work only count if it was outside the home? By the same token, what was going through my mind? Did I think she should have run, or not?
I don’t know.
What I do know now is that Wendy’s mom worked hard, so mine could too. So to ALL the moms in our lives…thanks.