Mother’s Day Graduation

I spent my Mother’s Day up to my neck in tissues.  The antihistamines I had taken did little to ease the discomfort of allergies, and so, as I sat propped on my couch, I had an awful lot of time to sip tea, blow my nose andIMG_9003 think.  Mother’s Day is the one day of the year when I indulge myself.  I insist on breakfast in bed, time alone, a home cooked meal.  No cleaning, no laundry, and no guilt, just a day of pure relaxation.  But this was a Mother’s Day of firsts.  It coincided with the college graduation of my eldest daughter.  It was the first mother’s day where I wasn’t focused solely on celebrating me.  It was the first mother’s day I had spent in decades with my mother and sister.  And what better way to spend it than with the two women who have seen me through this motherhood journey for the past twenty-one years. When my daughter walked across the Syracuse stage to accept her diploma, we cheered loudly.  She hadn’t had an easy time of it which meant that neither had I.  But with the support of my mother and sister, my daughter and I made it through.  It felt as if it were the three of us who walked across that stage with her.  We’d been on the rollercoaster ride together, buckled in for the fun and fear of seeing a child through their journey to adulthood.  For twenty-one years, they talked me through, cheered me on, scolded, and encouraged me when I didn’t know which way to turn.  When I was tired, they came. When I needed to work, they took a load off.   When I didn’t have enough, they chipped in.  The role of fathers of course, is equally valuable, but it feels like motherhood is more of a  group effort.  I believe it takes a village, a family and a whole lot of friends.

When my oldest was an infant, I joined a playgroup.  I was new to the area, away from my family and the women I met with weekly were strangers.  We were different racially and culturally and united only by our first time mom status. Some were relaxed, others were neurotic.  But in our times together, clustered on the floor, babies crawling around us,  we shared our insecurities about navigating the world of motherhood.  Eventually, I confided to the moms in my playgroup that before having a baby,  I imagined motherhood would be a breeze. I pictured long walks, my cheerful baby in tow, strolling through the park.  A white linen dress was involved as were smells of freshly baked bread when I returned to my meticulous home.  Somehow, in the midst of breast-feeding, diaper changes and sleep deprivation, my pristine dream dissolved.   My vivid imagination is most often an asset to my writing, but applying those same fantasies to the real world of parenting can only lead to disappointment and feelings of failure.  As a group, we figured out that perfection is not what we should be striving for.  And that through all our differences, we each needed to find our own way as mothers.

But that discovery didn’t take away the worry. That persistent, gnawing fear that began early and continued through teething, first words and steps and mushroomed into concerns about kindergarten and teachers.  And then it was friendships and sports, and onto dating, drugs and college admissions.   Through it all, I’ve met scores of other mothers, whose views, attitudes and differing parenting styles have impacted my own. Their honest assessments often helped me shortcut a world of heartache.  The benefit of an alternative perspective is a gift to our children.  To see our children through someone else’s eyes is to experience them in a new, often less critical light.   For the most part, mothers and women are an honest lot, willing to share their own struggles to help you through yours.  I’ve been brought to tears when talking to another mother about one parenting woe or another and she says the two most beautiful words you can say to a person in crisis—“me too.” Some mothers though strive for the ever elusive perfection.  Children, homes marriages–Perfect, perfect and perfect.  Maybe they’ve figured out some magic formulas the rest of haven’t, but I doubt it. To share with other mothers the hardships and challenges you face, says less about your failure as a mother than it does about the simple fact that this motherhood thing is no easy ride.   Sometimes it is, but a lot of times it isn’t.  And if you are prepared for that reality, you are better equipped to hold on tight when life goes into freefall.

With my mother and sister seated beside me, I cheered as much for my daughter as I did for the role they played in getting her across that stage.  The role we should all play in getting each other through.  We are all to be celebrated for striving to make it across life’s stage knowing we did the absolute best we could do. And maybe, if we are lucky, our kids will recognize it, and give us a hand for the effort.

Lesa Cline-Ransome


About Lesa Cline-Ransome

Children's book writer, reader, mother of 4, partner to one, dog lover, nester, walker, runner, truthful optimist, answer seeker, listener, negotiator, Boston girl, music maker, party starter, party ender, political, foodie, explorer, winter lover, fast talker, fighter, woman's woman
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5 Responses to Mother’s Day Graduation

  1. I love this, Lesa. It’s a fine tribute to motherhood and a great reminder that “me too” sometimes is all it takes. Sometimes, even, all it takes is someone who will give the time to listen without comment.

  2. Phyllis Robinson says:

    I wish I had the time to write the response this deserves, but I’ve got work to get done before Ava arrives here from school and I have to do homework with her while I handle business. And the piano teacher is coming at 5:30 and I haven’t figured out what I’m making for dinner. All I have to say is that while movie stars are lauded for talking about how women should be paid an equal salary to that of their male counterparts, I started thinking, no we shouldn’t. We should be paid more! We do more. My husband isn’t sitting in his office right now wondering what he can make for dinner that doesn’t require defrosting first. He has no idea of whats in the freezer. He doesn’t know that the dishwasher is full or that there’s a load of dark laundry in the washer that needs to be done before the cleaner comes tomorrow to wash the sheets. I quizzed him last week on what the garbage and recycle days were. He failed. Do you think he knows that our daughter has one last project due next Wednesday? She has to create her own superhero, write an essay on it and dress up for the superhero parade. She’s Bubblegum Girl. Do I have time to get to the craft store? No. I have camp trunks to pack and suitcases for a family vacation (haha), I need to pick up some over the counter medicines just in case. So do I think woman should be paid equally? No. Will I feel a sense of accomplishment when my Ava graduates form college? Oh yeah.

  3. Pingback: Lesa Cline-Ransome’s Writerhood : Mother’s Day Graduation | Rhinebeck Community Forum

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