My husband and I had breakfast at a local restaurant the other day. Across the aisle was a young mother with three well-dressed, well-behaved little boys. The youngest slept contentedly in an infant seat, and the oldest was about five. They chatted as they ate, the mother reaching over from time to time to cut her sons’ pancakes and sausage.
John reminded me that I was staring.
“She makes it look so easy,” I said, shaking my head. “Where did I go wrong?”
John patted my hand, and we exchanged smiles, thinking of the secret we shared — that our three little ones had been nurtured by three different mothers.
Number one son had a mother who hovered 24/7 in an antiseptic world. She fed him when he whimpered, changed his outfits ten times a day, and stared at him by the hour. In her pocket was a Dr. Spock paperback, and hanging around her neck, a Brownie Kodak Camera. When Michael cut a tooth, she entered it on page seventy-five of his baby book. When he began crawling, she scrubbed the floor twice a day. And when her clever little one-man-show took his first step, she ran ahead of him with a spray can of disinfectant.
Number two son, a colicky baby who fussed night and day for the first four months, had a zombie for a mother. She walked the floors at night like a guard on sentry duty, a ten pound baby slung over her shoulder. Once when she dozed off while feeding her little one breakfast, she spooned oatmeal into his ear. The day Scott outgrew the colic, his mother entered it on page one of his baby book, beneath a lopsided photograph of a fussy baby in a stained undershirt and diaper.
Number three son was blessed with ‘earth mother’ who took his allergy to milk and projectile vomiting in her stride. When little Philip dropped his sippy cup on the floor, the same woman who had once sterilized a rectal thermometer with boiling water, picked up the cup, blew the dirt off, and handed it back. When he became obsessed with ‘creatures,’ his mother allowed a bucket of tadpoles in the bathroom, and a turtle named Myrtle to roam the kitchen floor undisturbed, like cattle on the streets of Calcutta. The day Philip’s mother saw him trying to lick his kitty’s back because, “…He can’t reach that part, Mommy…” her first impulse was to take a picture for his baby book . If only she knew where the camera was — and if only he had a baby book…
I looked at ‘perfect mother’ across the aisle and wondered how she would react one day if her two older sons decorated their little brother with fuzzy caterpillars. Would she simply remind them that caterpillars go ‘poopie’ and laugh when they offered to wash him off in the stream? Right!
John continued patting my hand. “She probably has a live-in nanny.”
I felt better.
24 Comments
Peggy: I have four children, 3 sons and a daughter. My first son and daughter have beautiful baby books. Lots of pictures and information. The second son got a scrapbook. He was/is not impressed. The third son just whines he never got a baby book. He also complains there is no family photo with him as a baby. I told him we went to Sears and posed. We went back to pick up the pictures and the lady said, “the baby had his eyes closed, so we didn’t produce them”. ARGH! I told him it was just too hard to get them all cleaned up and back to Sears. Perhaps, I could just photoshop him in now
Another great story Mrs. Rowe.
As the mother of three boys, everyone still being alive by bedtime meant a good day. The first child is the first for everything. You have all these ideals for yourself and your child. When number two came I was a little more relaxed, the boys got along great. With number three I learned not to sweat the small stuff. He could be running around the yard with scissors, sucker sticking out of his mouth, shooting a cap gun. My motto was “don’t call me unless someone is bleeding or on fire”. Those “perfect mother’s”, they are the one’s I like to refer to as the “Xanax mother’s” because there is no way they can be that perfect without being medicated.
Loved it , Peg. All so true. Funny. Mary Ellen
Mrs. Rowe
I too now realize that my 3 children were also raised by 3 different mothers..LOL.. I also had to deal with the projectile vomiting for a whole year. And the baby book thing is SO true!
Kelly
Mrs. Rowe,
Thank you SO much for your wonderful stories! I look forward to reading them, and if it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure we moms all feel most of the same things you’ve expressed. Many other mothers make it appear so much “easier”. We know better.
I look forward to your next blog – thank you!
Holly
Thanks Mrs. Rowe! It’s nice to hear from other Moms who aren’t “super moms”.
Go Phillip!!
Another wonderful story, Mrs. Rowe. Keep on writing them.
Mom Rowe,
Just LOVE your blog!
You did a great job with all the “boys”..
each unique in their own way.
What a lovely woman you are!
Bless you.
I can totally relate. Having three children, I am definitely aware that their birth order has in some ways determined each of their personalities and how they developed into who they are as a person. Hardest job on the planet, being a mom, some make it look easy, but we mom’s know, that adjective just doesn’t really fit the job description. You did a great job, Mrs. Rowe, that is easy to see.
Absolutely you’re the best mom Mrs. Rowe. And you’ve raised an outstanding speciman of a human being, a rare oddity in this world. Be proud, everything you did was perfect!!!!!
Lots of love, and if Mike married me, (JUST KIDDING) I wouldn’t have to change my name. LOL
T.Rowe
Love your blog, Mrs Rowe. This was a great story.
Mrs. Rowe,
I love your blog and look forward to each and every installment.
I too come from a family of 3 boys, born in the 60′s, failed by Dr Spock. I don’t know how my mom did it, having a 2 year old son then suddenly “blessed” with twin boys. That is a heck of a lot of diapers and safety pins!
All in all, I look at my mother and can’t help but think that she was perfect, I’m sure the same way your sons look at you.
Thanks again for for your humor and wisdom.
Gregg
I’m not a mom yet but I babysat my twin niece and nephew for a looooong time so somehow I know the pain and mostly the joy of having kids.
Cute story…..Thank you Mrs. Rowe.
~Cyn:)
I just want to hug you, Mrs. Rowe.
I remember I volunteered to take my kids and my sister’s kids out to dinner. As I was driving to the pizza restaurant, I realized that I had 2 8 year olds, a 6 year old and a 4 year old. So I said (if I remember correctly), “We’re going to a nice place to eat. There will be dough and crayons for you to play with. Here’s the deal: there will be no yelling, fighting, throwing, punching, wandering around, or throwing a hissy fit of any kind. Also, don’t order anything you’re not going to eat. Got it?” They all said yes. We had a lovely lunch.
And the hat you have on baby Mike is hysterical.
Cyn
I just want to know if Scott involuntarily rubs his ear every time he sees a bowl of oatmeal! That is very funny… cute pictures, too.
You are so correct…and funny.
I grew up with six siblings and our house was a zoo, and we had lots of animals too!
Lisa
Wonderful memories of motherhood. My son had the milk allergy, projectile vomiting thing going on. Goat’s milk solved that issue. And my second complains that her baby book is incomplete. I never did get a picture of her riding the dog.
My Mom had 5 of us, one of each as my Dad used to say. Three of them were in diapers when I was 12. The littlest was stuck in an infant chair under the table during dinner. She was safer that way.
The second youngest was born in the bathroom when my exhausted Mom failed to wake up in time… I caught her in a towel and handed her to my Mom. After watching all this unfold, I waited until I was in my 30′s to have my kids.
Three mothers indeed! Each child is different. At least you were able to enjoy your meal in peace that day. So many children behave like puppies romping at a park when they are in public nowadays. Thanks for another great read Mrs. Rowe.
Peggy,
I love reading your stories! They make me laugh, cry, and are so true to life. Thanks for sharing them. All of us moms with more than one child must do the same things!
Thank you for another great story, Mrs. Rowe. I always enjoy them. It looks like number one son came through it just fine but funny that he ended up making his living in dirt.
My oldest and dearest friend is one of those perfect mom’s of three. I’m waiting for her nervous breakdown.
You crack me up, Peggy! It is nice to be reminded that some of us are non-perfect moms… but still good ones, none the less.
Terra
Another great blog Mrs Rowe. Thank you.
It’s funny how we change our ‘Mothering’ from the first child to the second, third and so on…
I’m sure that lady with the 3 boys in the restaurant has her bad days too. If she doesn’t, then she DEFINATELY has a nanny!
Ali (who’s second child is currently out in the garden collecting more snails)
I’m baby number 4 in my family. I have no baby book with any handwritten notes or pictures either. In fact, I was considered a real live ‘baby doll’ to my two older sisters and it seems, a real live ‘target’(in later years) to my eldest sibling…my brother. So I can sympathize with your youngest.
Great read as always Mrs. Rowe. Made me smile.
Mrs. Rowe I love your blogs – you are such a good Mom. Thank you for sharing your stories.