I'm a Mother

Every Day is Mother’s Day
By California’s First Lady Maria Shriver

 

Today’s the day we set aside to show our gratitude to our mothers. We send flowers and pictures, take them out to brunch. As a mother, I cherish every bouquet, every hand-made card, every picture and box of chocolates my children and husband have given me on Mother’s Day — the day when mothers are shown how much they’re appreciated. My question is this: When are mothers going to appreciate themselves? It’s time.

I’ve traveled all over this country as a reporter — and now all over California as a volunteer for the state. And when I ask women what they do, so many of them — too many of them — say, “I’m just a mother.” Or they’ll say, “I’m a stay-at-home Mom —” and rush to complete the picture with, “but I used to be a teacher — a nurse — an executive.” My sister-in-law says, “I’m just a mother, but I used to be a lawyer.” Or in my case, “I used to be a broadcast journalist.”

Just a mother? We do the most important work on the planet. We are by and large the primary caretakers of our most valuable resource. We are the guarantors of our future, the creators of the next generation, warriors for our children, the main transmitters of love and language and nurturance and values — and still we think we don’t matter. We devalue ourselves and minimize our worth. “Just a mother.” I’ve said it myself, and it’s ridiculous.

It’s time for a change. We need an extreme makeover of our self-image. I want to get women to stop saying, “I’m just a mother.” Instead let’s say, “We are mothers and proud of it.” Let’s acknowledge that we exercise enormous power to shape other human beings’ lives — the toughest public service job there is. It’s also the lowest-paying public service job — and that’s part of the problem. Too many of us feel worthless, because we think we’re worth less than those who are paid.

We also have a lightweight job description. Hearts and flowers, apple pie and warm milk, sweetness and light — that doesn’t cut it anymore. We need something more muscular, something closer to the truth. Try this one on: “Mothers: Serving 24/7 on the front lines of humanity.”

It’s a job that requires more courage than most. It takes great courage just to give birth. It takes a big heart filled with courage to do the work required to raise children — to teach them, to give them time, attention, and direction — to help mold them into good human beings with good values. It takes even more courage to accept who your children actually are — to accommodate yourself to that reality — and help them grow into the adults they’re supposed to become. And when the time comes, it takes more courage then you can wrap your brains around — to let your children go.

And talk about courage: There are single mothers without sufficient day care, elderly grandmothers filling in as their grandchildren’s mothers — mothers whose children are serving in the military today — mothers who’ve lost sons or daughters fighting for us overseas — young mothers who’ve been widowed by war and have to carry on alone. When we talk about heroes, let’s talk about these mothers, too.

So today, enjoy the cards and the flowers and the chocolate and the brunch — and the morning off from working in the trenches for mankind. Appreciate your own hard work as a counselor, teacher, doctor, mediator, cheerleader, disciplinarian, ethicist, beauty consultant, cook, chauffeur, confidante — and, yes, scapegoat, monster, and demanding pain-in-the-you-know-what. All in a day’s work. Mother’s work. What do I do? I’m a mother. Period. Enough said.