I just finished Kelly Corrigan's new book, Lift. Wow. I thought I would share a passage from it with you all. It hit home with me. If you have the chance, go to the library, the bookstore or sit in Borders for an afternoon and read it.
...What you probably wouldn't believe is how much I want to say yes. Yes, you can take two dozen books home from the library. Yes, you can eat the whole roll of SweeTarts. Yes, you can camp out on the deck. But the books will get lost, and SweeTarts will eventually make your tongue bleed, and if you sleep on the deck, the neighborhood raccoons will nibble on you. I often wish I could come back as your uncle, so I could give you more. But when you're the mom, your whole life is holding the rope against those wilt secret agents who never, ever stop trying to get you to drop your end.
This tug-of-war often obscures what's also happening between us. I am your mother, the first mile of your road. Me and all my obvious and hidden limitations. That means in addition to possibly wrecking you, I have the chance to give you what was given to me: a decent childhood, more good memories than bad, some values, a sense of tribe, a run at happiness. You can't imagine how seriously I take that - even as I fail you. Mothering you is the first thing of consequence that I have ever done.