The definition of a mom is..
Updated: Feb 15, 2020
About a week ago, I cooked a turkey.
“WHY?? are we having a turkey, MOM??”
It’s like I need to post a four day in-advance notice (on facebook, twitter and google plus) justifying my necessity in making a turkey.
“So… like.. what is so special about Saturday, again?” (Saturday was the day I had assigned for the turkey)
The real reason is.. (and this is exactly what I said)
“because we HAVE a turkey…”
You know how it goes. Someone donated a turkey to us. I looked into the deep freeze and said,
“Hey! Now there’s a turkey. I should cook that.” End of high brow discussion in my head.
An entire turkey was given to us. That is 26 pounds of goodness that I do not need to buy at the grocery store.
Some of the things that are completely obvious to the humble creatures of this earth (otherwise known as “moms”) are obviously some of the most obscure and profound things out there.
It’s very “high brow” to serve a turkey because “we have one” and not precipitated by some nationally recognized holiday.
And while cooking the turkey on a non-recognized national holiday, otherwise known as “random Saturday”, I attempted to replicate the side dishes of recognized holidays. In which I was met with a fallen face by one of my children.
“Mom!!! We don’t have any cranberries!”
Now, if you want to know what is really important to your children, try suggesting they go without it.
Hence, a “random Saturday” was now turning into a emotional meltdown for lack of cranberries, even though on other “random Saturdays” a main dish of cheese-filled quesidillas with a side of salsa would have posed as a feast.
Either way, we had an emergency on our hands. I sought quickly throughout the cupboards.
Aha! Craisins! Yes, dried cranberries. I quickly threw them in a pot and reconstituted them with water and supplemental sugar.
In a matter of minutes, I had gone from a villian to a heroine. And after a little oohing and aahing from the family. I was convinced that the true definition of a mom is : a wizard!
Yes, it all comes from the Lord. But he makes moms look like wizards to their families. Not sure why or how this all happens. It just does.
Admit it. Even if you don’t see yourself as a wizard, you probably see it in your own mother. I know, I do. My mother, i.e. “the wizard” is always impressing me, even to this day.
So a few days pass and our family is over at a friend’s house, helping clean up after a meal. One of the young guys is there, and I was busy cleaning off the stovetop.
“Hey! Can we schedule you in to clean the kitchen each week?”
“No. But I will help you when I’m here..”
“Yeah.. but how do you get it so clean? It never looks like that when we do it.”
“Oh, don’t you know that the definition of a mom is: “a wizard”??”
And this is a direct quote: “What? All moms are LIZARDS??.. Why are all moms Lizards??” Other than doubling me over with complete laughter, it brought me down to reality. Yes, God is willing to use the humble creatures of the earth (lizards) to occasionally look like they are smart (wizards).. but for now I’m changing my definition and my identity, for that matter.
I am a lizard. After all, they are useful. They catch bugs. They get around. They survive the heat.
There’s waaaaaaaaay too much pressure to perform as a wizard. That’s for my own mother, but not for me.
Shortly after the lizard discussion, I could hear Emily in the background.. “Yuck. Lizards.. I don’t want to be a mom, then..”
I guess.. at 8 years old… it’s a good thing. After all, she’d have to spend a lot of time justifying why she makes turkey on random Saturdays while spit-shining the stovetop if she chose to be a lizard already.