The Mother’s Hall of Fame

gymboree clothes

Ok, so I was writing a thank you note to my very generous aunt and uncle, who send my children beautiful clothes from Gymboree every year for Christmas, and I wrote the following:

Have fun in Miami! It’s nice to when your hard work is rewarded.

Now, I wrote this because my uncle, a self-made man, is being inducted into the Plastics Hall of Fame (I’m not kidding, such a thing exists) in Miami this month and is taking my parents, along with his other siblings and his children to participate in the big event. No, I was not included, as I was led to believe for a whole ten seconds when my mom called two weeks ago gushing “we’re going to Miami!” Apparently, once you grow up and have children of your own, you’re no longer included in that we thing, but that’s a story for another day.

So anyway, I was going to include one more line in the card as a little shout out to my aunt, and well, let’s be honest to myself as well: Too bad they don’t have a hall of fame for mothers, but A., I did not want to take away from my uncle’s accomplishments. B., I thought it sounded a little bitter, and C., we’re not that close (as you can probably gather from the fact that I was not invited…) so I was afraid, as I am afraid with almost every e-mail that I send, that they might read the wrong tone. I was going for funny in case you were wondering.

Not to get carried away with this story, but later when I was doing yet another On Demand workout, trying to undo the damage of the fifty chocolate chip, oatmeal, peanut butter cookies I ate this weekend. I couldn’t stop thinking about a Hall of Fame for mothers. No, I’m not nominating myself. One visit to my house would destroy all my hopes of contention anyhow. But what about Bill Gates mom, or Einstein’s mom, or even Drew Brees’ mom (I don’t know much about football, but come on, when he held his son up at the Super Bowl with those big old ear phones on, what mom didn’t fall in love.) And let’s not forget women like, Sonia Sotomeyer, Mother Teresa, heck, Beyonce. Their mom’s knew what they were doing too. Who’s patting these women on the back? (Ok, I know some of these people are dead, but go with me.) I mean you have to hope at the very least that their children are thanking them; because let’s face it, for the most part, being a mother is often a thankless job and it shouldn’t be. Children don’t raise themselves. From good manners to good grades, to just raising a decent human being; it’s hard work.  I mean, who knew that even the much taken for granted task of wiping your own butt could take months, or in our case, a year to teach? (Though my friend swears that was just my son being lazy.)

So if your kid turns out ok, don’t be afraid to shout it out to the world that you’re the one responsible for that remarkable human being, (the one with the clean butt). Because we all know too well, that when that same kid goes and messes things up, it won’t be long before everyone is pointing the finger at you.

So, I vote for a Mother’s Hall of Fame. A wonderful place that’s full of generous, intelligent and loving women, that acknowledges the fact that behind every great man or woman, is an even better mother!

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