A True Hallmark Moment

We celebrated Mother's Day yesterday because my own mother had to work today. Our gathering was planned to be a low-key celebration - lunch out with my husband and girls, my parents, and my brothers. Everything started out beautifully. My girls had been angels all day, they looked picture-perfect in their pretty spring dresses, we got a prime table for nine at our restaurant of choice easily, appetizers of choice were flowing and delicious, and hugs and tears of joy were being shared as gifts and sentimental cards were being exchanged. I actually thought, Wow, this is a Hallmark Mother's Day in the making. Then the crisis hit.

Conversation and debate were being had across the long table at our typical elevated decibel (as only Italians can do) when I noticed my five-year-old daughter had put her hands over her ears. Then she got her signature pouty/angry look at on her face and screamed, Everyone, stop talking! My ears hurt!

I wish I could say that this was an unusual comment to come from my daughter, but this is a tactic that she has used many times when her father and I dare to try to have an adult conversation that does not involve her. She can become quite irritated when the attention is not focused entirely upon Her Highness and will often do whatever it takes to redirect attention back on herself.

I told her not to be rude and that we could all speak if we wished. This sent only sent her deeper into her fury, and the tears started flowing. She insisted in between moans that her ears really did hurt. I again asked her not to be rude, but she was unrelenting.

My parents, being the loving and indulgent grandparents that they are, immediately started buying into my daughter's complaints, asking what was wrong and what they could do to help. I of course thought they were just feeding into her strategy. However, after a few minutes of my daughter crying and starting to show true signs of pain, I began to believe that maybe she wasn't crying wolf this time - that maybe the kid did in fact have an earache. Imagine that.

I took her outside to sit on a bench to try to calm her down and assess the situation. It was becoming clear that I was wrong (making my parents right again - dang it) and that she really was in pain. A Meijer store was right next door to the restaurant at which we were eating, so my husband left the restaurant to get some Tylenol. By this time her head was in my lap and I was trying to soothe her. My husband was back in a jiffy with the Tylenol, and we hoped that it would kick in quickly. No such luck. She then started asking for ear muffs, claiming that would comfort her ears. Being that it was May, I didn't have any ear muffs on me, but I thought maybe the ear phones for our portable DVD player in the van might pacify her. Again, no such luck. My concern for my daughter was growing, as was my guilt - guilt for not believing her to begin with and guilt for spoiling everyone's "perfect" Mother's Day.

I could see my daughter was clearly now in a lot of pain and that it was not going to subside on its own, so I asked that my filet mignon be boxed up and gathered my husband and kids to go home to care for my daughter. We called the doctor, who quickly faxed in a prescription for Amoxicillin and ear drops. She was in pain off and on throughout the rest of the night, but she is doing much better today.

At the time of this episode I thought, what a miserable Mother's Day. I didn't get the chance to properly acknowledge and celebrate my own mother, which I sorely wanted to do after all she has done for me during my recovery. In fact, I pretty much skipped out on her during lunch, barely saying Goodbye in my hurry to get my own daughter home and well. My poor little girl was sick. I questioned my own abilities as a mother for not recognizing my own daughter's pain or believing her.

But then it hit me. This Mother's Day celebration was very much a Hallmark moment. More so than if things had gone exactly as planned. Because it was real. It was a true Mother's Day, in the purest sense of the word and enveloped all that being a mother is. Pain, love, concern, self-doubt, vulnerability, everything that is raw and true and real. It's also about learning, giving, making and accepting our mistakes, and forgiving (others and yourself). That's what being a real mother is all about. So I guess my Mother's Day was perfect after all.