It Doesn't Matter...by Maureen Locher

When you’re a mom it just doesn’t matter… It doesn’t matter that yesterday you awoke at 4:00 a.m. to view the total lunar eclipse jumping up from the computer chair several times to run out into your front yard clad in only your robe to gaze at the disappearing moon. It doesn’t matter that you raced from your house at 8:15 to drive 45 minutes to assist your aging parents in the very new and scary developments surrounding mounting medical problems for both. It doesn’t matter that you cried uncontrollably for 10 minutes while keeping the car on the road. It doesn’t matter that you went to two separate grocery stores shopping for said parents as well as attempting to remember a few of your own family’s necessary supplies (like toilet paper). It doesn’t matter that you were busy every single second at your parents’ exiting their driveway feeling the fervent desire that you had been able to do more. It doesn’t matter that as you turned the ignition you realized you needed gas, and that your son was waiting for you at home ready to steal your car, so he could get to work on time. Luckily, you saw no police on your flight home, and more importantly, no police saw you.

It doesn’t matter that you began editing articles practically as soon as you entered the door and continued doing so for hours, having long since passed the point of exhaustion; you knew you could do it. It doesn’t matter that you really can’t remember when you fell asleep last night , but you most definitely do remember hearing the screech of the alarm clock jarring you from slumber. And you lay there positively sure that it was mere moments ago you rested your tired head on the pillow, but it doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter because today is your youngest son’s birthday and he MUST awaken to the long-standing self-inflicted (“your” self-inflicted) tradition of walking down the steps on birthday morning to strands of crepe paper streaming through the doorway. He MUST be greeted with “Happy Birthday” written in a toothpaste greeting across the bathroom mirror. And he MUST sit down to extinguish the flame atop his orange danish as you sing to him. All the chores awaiting you this day do not stir you from your bed, and the undeniable fatigue cannot hold you bound. You tape the crepe, you squeeze the Crest, you light the candle because you love the boy — and that’s what matters. Happy Birthday, Joe!

Maureen is the MWLM copy editor.

Comments

[Veronica]

Yep me too. Up at 3:30 in the morning to see the lunar eclipse. I was wiped the next day.

[Paula]

Happy Birthday to Joe!! (hey Maureen, I like the toothpaste idea - cool!).

Thanks,
Paula