Mother’s Day

“I don’t know what’s more exhausting about parenting: the getting up early, or acting like you know what you’re doing.” —Jim Gaffigan Oh Jim, how right you are. I also often think of the lyrics from an old favorite Michael McDonald song: “Days turn into years, and years into the blink of an eye.” True, true, all true. Mother’s Day; the Mother of All Days. I look at anyone who becomes a parent with awe; being a parent myself does nothing to lessen my admiration for those who choose to mold little people into adults—just the contrary. And the parents …

Good god, have we gotten ourselves backed into a corner when it comes to feeding our families, getting dinner on the table, fighting the good fight. Open the paper, turn on the news, and there’s another scary missive about pink slime or childhood obesity or pesticides. It’s enough to make you want to curl up under the bed and hurl a takeout menu at your family. “I can’t possibly do all of this right,” we think. “Maybe I shouldn’t even bother.” As Mother’s Day drew nearer, here’s what I was thinking.  Let’s stop acting as though life isn’t extremely messy …