Friday, August 19, 2011

Just Wait...


Mothers spend a lot of time waiting...

Over the course of the past few weeks I have found myself in situations where I felt a significant---to the heart of womanhood connection with other women.

When I was registering my daughter for school there were many mothers there waiting on the sidelines with checkbooks in hand while pictures were taken, schedules were worked out, and friendships renewed. Mothers were waiting as they walked to find lockers and classrooms. I had even asked my daughter prior to joining these waiting women if she just wanted me to send the checks with her but she wanted me to go...and I was very happy to go along and wait for her and with her and breathe in the youthful atmosphere of anticipation still heavy with the scent of the freedoms of summer.

The same daughter I accompanied to school registration also wanted me to go school shopping with her. Again, I was deeply grateful that she wanted my company and I must admit feeling pretty content to watch her spend her own money. She has a job and we all know how exhilarating it can be to have our own money from our first job...excitement and worry and a puzzling sense of frugality. Once again I found myself in the company of many mothers in the process of waiting while children tried on clothes that promised so much more than just being something to wear. I found myself frequently looking for a comfy chair from which to watch the impromptu fashion shows. My daughter reminded me to stay close by as my children are quick to remind me that I have had a habit in the past of straying too far from the dressing room and wandering through the store so that I am nowhere to be found if they need my opinion. This is somehow ironic because normally I am trying to get them to stay put so I can give them my opinion.

Anyway...from my viewpoint (on an assortment of chairs, cushiony cubes, over-sized stools, or out-of-the-way places to stand--preferably with a rack or wall to lean against) I witnessed several poignant moments between mother and child as differing opinions boiled into frustration or similar tastes mingled into mutual agreement. Mini dramas and comedies played out before my eyes and I could relate as I kept holding up shirts or skirts or pants that I thought my daughter might like and my selections would be viewed with thinly veiled disgust,  shocked disbelief, or sometimes a surprised look of approval and even interest. (I cannot begin to tell you how good it felt to watch my daughter like and actually purchase something I spotted) While being observer and participant in back-to-school shopping I could almost feel memories swirling around me of a time when all of those mothers were shopping with their mothers and harboring their own secret desires of being admired for their amazing fashion sense.

At the beginning of this week two of my daughters and I went to Baskin Robbins for a family night treat/ reward for doing some clean-up work in the basement and as we were leaving we saw a mother-to-be dash in for an evening treat just before closing time. I think she stood out to me as the perfect example of how much waiting mothers do and where it all begins...although really a woman's waiting begins long before pregnancy---but that could be the topic of another blog...

All of these experiences have got me to thinking about waiting and its place in the life of a woman. The very act of waiting could be seen as feminine in nature. There are ladies-in-waiting who wait to attend to their ladys' needs (Interesting that waiting and serving are so closely connected) and pregnant pauses--breaks in conversation or oration that fill us with anticipation as we wait to absorb their meaning. Why is it that Father Time is a father and not a mother???

I have spent much of my time as a mother waiting. I have waited for my children to arrive on earth, waited for their first smile,  for teeth to come through, for them to walk and talk and feed themselves---and waited for them to be potty-trained, to get out of school or soccer practice or dance class, to finish homework and school---to come home at night, to get married, to have children of their own---waited for them to get a clue, to understand me,  to forgive me...I have come to the conclusion that I am thankful for all of this waiting because it has given me time to contemplate being a mother, time to understand my children, time to remember and plan and dream, time to ponder life and the passage of time...

Mothers can always find something to do while they're waiting.

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