I got the idea for this article while talking to one of my roommates about this essay she was writing for one of her Education courses. In it, she talked about kids who come from working families. Growing up, both of my parents worked. They left the house at 7 am and weren’t back until 5:30pm. My brother and I were always in daycare and afterschool programs because there was no question that our parents wouldn’t be home in time to pick us up from the bus stop.
As a kid, I didn’t quite understand why my mom wasn’t a PTA mom like many of the other moms. Or why she wasn’t head room mom. Or why she didn’t bake cupcakes for the bake sale. Instead, I showed up to class with ShopRite brand cookie platters. It always felt like all of the other kids had those moms. The ones who stayed at home and picked their kids up from school in between yoga sessions and brunch, and who had unlimited time to attend parent-teacher conferences, school play rehearsals, and soccer games (with orange slices and juice boxes in tow). My mom strived to be there as much as she could. She came to every night-time recital and choir concert– especially if there was a photo opportunity–but during the day she had to work.
And, even though she worked all day, she still taught me the greatest lessons in her free time.
The typical girl things… like how to wear a tampon, how to clasp a bra, and how to shave my legs. When I was first learning how to shave my legs, my mom bought me an electric razor, which was less efficient in shaving the hair off my legs and less likely to cut my skin (leave it to her to find time to be overprotective! :) ), and we spent an hour for me to try to figure out how to work it.
How to be independent… this is one of the best lessons she’s taught me. She always made me do my homework on my own, making sure that I made my own time to do it, as it was my responsibility. She was supportive in every leadership position I applied for, and encouraged me to keep working and striving towards a goal even if the task at hand seemed harder than necessary.
She taught me to be realistic… I’m the biggest dreamer this world has ever seen, and I often set myself up to achieve long term goals that I try to accomplish in the shortest amount of time. My mom is the first one to give me that reality check and tell me to breathe.
To believe in myself and not compare myself to others… This was something I struggled with, until very recently. I always knew my mom loved me, but my anxiety was always focused on what others thought of me instead of my actual goals. Through many many long talks, my mother has convinced me to not let others intimidate me while I’m trying to reach for the stars.
I love my mom. She’s the best. She really does it all.