Momma Cries

Does an owl cry?  Like really cry with tears?  We all know they hoot, but do they cry?  I believe they do.

In Greek mythology, the owl represents wisdom. It was said to sit on Athena’s blind side and “see the truth.”  And, if the owl is wise and sees the truth, then I believe they most definitely cry through it.

I joke all of the times that “it’s just my meds” making me so sappy at this phase of my life. My friends will affirm that I say this when the tears begin to flow. And, I definitely don’t think they help. But, the truth is, I just seem to feel things deeper now. Maybe the meds make my senses heightened or maybe it’s the good old fashioned wisdom of my forty something brain, heart, and soul that has the tears flowing amidst the days of my hectic life.

My wisdom tells me that my marriage is so important. It says to cling, cling, and cling some more. It says that we are becoming the rarity in having a long term marriage of 19 years amongst so many divorcee friends. At this stage of life, affairs are floating around like the flu, and temptation is creeping up like our muffin top waistlines just did. People are too tired to diet, to read to their kids, to take their cellphone pacifiers away, and they are definitely too tired to work on their marriages.

This brings me tears. Our rarity brings fear (probably from the devil), and with the fear brings insecurities, which can turn to mindless tears. Loving deeper and longer means working even harder during these busy times of life to cling. Sometimes, my tears come from feeling last in all of the crazy chaos of family life. I have to work harder to remember a great marriage isn’t just about being loved, but about giving love.

More often, my tears are happy ones. Many times they are from laughter or from my great love. They well up after a proud moment with our kids. Having a great husband and working hard on your marriage will bring these happy tears….the tears that draw from deep in your heart and keep you moving.

Sometimes I am sobbing over our three ever-growing, ever-changing kids. I’m not sad about the phase they are in. I’m not even sad about the phases in which they are going. I’m just a little sad about how I’m treated in the present phase of life. I’m wiser now.  And, I’m available. But, they really don’t want much of me. So, I sit and wait, until they need me. I cry, privately, not to make a fool of myself, and think about how it’s just not fair. However, it is fair. They are living their busy life, just as I once lived my adolescent life . They are asking their friends for help and giving a lot of their pleasing time to their coaches and teachers.  My blubbering will not change the course of time and will not change the fact that I have a freshman, 7th grader and 3rd grade clan now.

But, the tears still flow, when my first born experiences his firsts of firsts, when he grows more inches or whiskers, or when he blatantly ignores my keen advice on how to deal with his huge life problems. My tears still flow, when my 7th grader’s tender heart is broken or he feels middle school pressures or pain. And, my tears still flow, when my daughter struggles to read, argues with a group of girls, or says something that’s a little too grown up for a nine year old.

Most of the time, lately, I feel like I’m stopping to smell the roses (or the baseball cleats) and trying to wipe my tears, as I take the whif. I’m not sure I smelled much of anything other than diapers the first years of parenting. And, no, I wasn’t stopping, but I DID FEEL NEEDED. It’s a struggle to be content with this wisdom- to enjoy the short, special moments from afar…..letting them grow and blossom, enjoying the last “at home phases”, yet not being selfish about my own needs as a mom.

I have to teach myself what I once taught them- “You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit.” I have to enjoy my small moments with them….. the life lessons I can teach in a few short minutes before their eyes begin to roll or they have skipped off. And, I have to stop and smell it- take it all in- even if my tears are flowing.

So, maybe it’s a combination of all of these moments making me so sappy. Maybe I am becoming more like the wise owl. Or, maybe I should increase my med dosage. But, regardless I am not ashamed of representing the song “Momma cried!”  I will wear the tears with honor, like I wear each pre-botox wrinkle with honor.

So, if you see me crying, please don’t worry. I am happy, healthy and heartfelt about this special- blink in the teary eye time- with my precious family. The tears just come without my control. I can laugh at them, discuss them, wipe them quickly, and most importantly be keenly aware of the beautiful wisdom they stand for.

“We need never be ashamed of our tears”
Charles Dickens

Yours Truly,