If we’re alive, we’ve got a mom somewhere. She dealt with skipping beer and wine, our painful kicks to her loins, and a few nauseous bouts, likely at times that were unexpected and exactly when she didn’t want it, for nine whole months. Our mothers carried us around, with a massive bump on her front like a reverse backpack, went about her life normally, and made choices every hour with us in mind. After nine-ish grueling months, she showed up to a hospital room, showed up the male population with her strength, and through her, we showed up for the very first time.
Moms are the best. Dads are great too, but man, do moms show up consistently. Every time from the age of -9 months to when we we were weaned off of breastmilk, our moms donated actual pieces of themselves to us so that we could grow into the people we are now. Our moms chose us over the ability to hold in their pee whenever the need arose… they chose us over the ability to leave whenever they wanted to go for a run/hike/bike/nap… they chose us despite the fact that it was 2 am and they didn’t really want to wake up for once… they chose us when we got poop all over the changing table… they chose us when we yelled and threw our Cheerios angrily at the floor.
Moms instinctively show up for their children – it’s just a product of being a mom – but that doesn’t make it easy. Imagine all the days your mom wished she could watch her own rom-com, and yet, she was stuck watching the same episode of Sesame Street for the fifteenth time. Imagine the exhausted mornings she spent giving you a bath because you had gotten sick at night, instead of sleeping well and sleeping in. Imagine the times she wished she could sit back and read a book but held you chest-close to her heart instead.
Your mom chose you, every. single. day. regardless of how tired, cranky, lazy, hungry, or sad she felt. Your mom showed up, through every week, every rainy day, every season, every year. She showed up with a smile, a hug, and a huge heart full of love and admiration for you, even though you puked on her yesterday when she burped you.
Be like your mom.
Show up in life. Show up for other people. Show up for your coworker’s presentation even when he bad-mouthed you yesterday about the quality of your work. Show up for your son’s soccer game even though it’s 95 degrees out, he’s six years old (so the quality of the soccer is pitiful), and you’d rather get some chores done around the house. Show up for class, each and every day, because the love of learning trumps anything else you’ve got going on. Show up for that friend who needs someone to talk to during their break-up. Show up for yourself when it’s the last Wednesday of the month and you have 30 minutes of running to conquer, stairs included.
Just show up. Every. Single. Moment.
Be like your mom.
And call her. It’ll make her day.
