Tag Archives: children

What Defines A Mother

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What Defines A Mother?

Such a seemingly simple word, the term Mother encompasses one of the most complex relationships we have.

dreamstime_xs_10730018A Mother is a caretaker, caring for all the needs of a child—emotionally and physically.

A Mother is an instructor, instructing her child from the moment she hears the first sound escape from his lips to the final step heard as he goes out the door to begin his own life.  

A Mother is a teacher, teaching life’s lessons of love, loss, and laughter gained from the experiences of her own life.

A Mother is a disciplinarian, using correction to benefit her child, which also benefits society in whole; not out of need to control or abuse, but because of her love.

A Mother is a protector, whether the danger comes from outside the home or from inside the child. She is always a step ahead, watching for those lurking evils that disguise themselves as something good.

A Mother loves without being told how and gives without asking how much.

A Mother takes a child and cares for him through the millions of moments in his life, whether they be joyful, peaceful, and carefree, or worrisome, troublesome, and heart breaking. 

What defines a Mother?The Moment a Woman_Mother

I believe the relationship with the child, and not the number of children one has, defines the mother. A true Mother is a woman that sacrificially loves the child in her care, no matter how, or if, they are related.

Many women have given birth, but not all have accepted the responsibility of “Mother”.

A Mother “…looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed…Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.”  Proverbs 31:27, 28, 31

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The Re-Arrangement

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“Mom! I can’t believe this! How could you?”
I hear my daughter’s panicked questions coming from the other room.
“What happened? Why did you do this? You’ve got to put it back!”
Rolling my eyes and laying down my laptop, I get up and go into the kitchen, knowing what the problem is before I even walk into the room. There I see my 16 year-old daughter standing with all the kitchen cabinet doors flung open. The bewildered look on her face and the hands flailing about her head, tell me she is not happy with what she sees.
When she notices that she has my attention, the shrills begin again, “What have you done? This is no good, no good at all! You can’t keep changing the cabinets. The cups don’t go near the plastic bowls, and all the plates are suppose to be on the same shelf! Please tell me you haven’t changed the stuff in the drawers. Aagh! You moved the silverware! Change it back! Change it back!”
Oh, brother, I think to myself, and then reassuring her I say, “It’s fine. I just moved around some things to make it more convenient for me.” Rolling her eyes, she takes her Oreo and leaves the room. This is a familiar episode we go through any time I decide to rearrange the cabinets, or the furniture, or if I turn the kitchen table in a different direction. My kids act like I have committed some heinous crime. What’s that about?
Is their childhood so unstable that they have to hold on to every steady fixture or utensil that has ever crossed their paths? I don’t believe it is. We have lived in the same place for 25 years, we’ve been going to the same church for 10 years, their Dad has had the same job for 35 years, and they’ve attended home school all of their life with me, their stay-at-home mom, as their teacher. How much more steady could their lives be?
Regardless, this is my kitchen; I do all of the cooking and most of the cleaning. The only time my kids like to come into the kitchen is when I am fixing them something to eat and they are waiting on me to fill their plates.
I used to be more sympathetic. I didn’t want to damage them in some way that would cause them to fail in life. But now seven of my nine kids are grown, and I decided it really doesn’t matter how careful you are with their psyche, they all turn out a little screwy anyway. (hee, hee… oh wait, maybe I am the problem)
I’m just kidding on that point. I know that parents are responsible for some of their children’s idiosyncrasies (hopefully, we are their biggest influence, after all). And I think it’s obvious to this self-proclaimed doctor of psychology, that children are affected by change. However, when that change is done in my domain, they need to be able to accept it.
I do not go into their bedrooms and make them change them to suit me. There are some requirements of keeping a half-decent room, but other than that, they are free to arrange and rearrange their rooms any way they would like.

Maybe I should inform them that if they want to help more in the kitchen, then I would allow them to have an input into the way it’s arranged or not rearranged. But since that’s not going to happen, I will continue to move things around the way I like them. And I’m sure they will continue to complain about where things are…or aren’t. 

The Porch Light

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Coming home to a cold, dark, empty house is such a sad feeling. I’ve never liked it. Even if all of us were coming home together, I wanted a light to be burning some place in the house to welcome us home. When my children began to go places without me, I would always leave the front porch light on and the door unlocked. As they began driving, I would leave the front porch light on, the door unlocked, and wait up for them. Now that some of them have moved out and have their own homes, if they leave after dark, I stand by the door and wait until their tail lights go up and over the big hill and go out of sight before I turn off the porch light,

Fortunately for me, as each one grew up and moved away (as it should be J), there would be another teenager to leave the porch light on for. But with the passing of time and my increasing age, I found I couldn’t keep the same hours as my last teenager (son #4), and would sometimes go to bed before he got home. But during the night some time, I would wake up, see the porch light was off, know the door was locked, and he was home safely.
Recently, son #4 was married. After we got home from the wedding celebration, I began to lock up the house and turn off the lights, walking over to the front door, I reached up to turn on the front porch light and realized I didn’t need to leave it on.
“Leave it on,” I said to Myself.
“There’s no reason to”, Myself answered. “He’s on his honeymoon, I don’t think he’ll be coming in tonight.”
“But just in case there’s an emergency”, replied I, knowing that there wouldn’t be.
“Well, maybe just for a little while”, Myself gave in.
But eventually, I had to go back and turn off the light and lock the door. I was surprised at the sudden feeling of loneliness that was brought about by this simple ritual of turning off the porch light. Although this signifies another chapter closing on Enloe Farms, there are still lots of stories to be lived out, talked about, and retold around our dinner table.

Just a note, I still have 2 teenagers at home, but they have to be home before dark! J


The Porch Light
The porch light shining through the night
Reminds me of God’s shining Light
That brings about some wayward soul
Who is lost in the world so dark and cold.
I leave the light burning on the porch
So none of my children will be caught in the lurch
The light breaks through the darkness dim
And guides them home to me again.