Mother Nature and a Mute Button

BlogHer Original Post

We’re kicking off our celebration of More than Mother’s Day with a couple of great posts submitted by our readers. It's been great so far reading what you are submitting about the bigger topic of motherhood and mothering, especially for someone like me who doesn't really love Mother's Day. It's great to focus on the "bigger picture." So thank you!

And now on to the good stuff of your words... and your hearts.

Sarah at Toddler Summer submitted a beautiful piece about the way motherhood changes how we look at ourselves, not just in the mirror but how we view our own stories.

I don’t think I really gave much thought to my inner narrative before Nora was born. It was there, but it was easy to quiet if needed, easy to dwell on if the moment asked for it. But Nora hijacked my narrative, stole the whole thing for herself until three years later and she had to yield a part of it to her brother. My mom brain is hard to shut off. In my quiet moments my mind automatically goes to Nora and Miles, to the questions and answers (are there answers?) of motherhood. My story has become their story.

My motherhood narrative is comfortable now, like a second skin, or just the natural way that life goes. I’ve abandoned “my” story for “our” story. Instead of one character there are now four. And that feels, most days, like the way it is supposed to be. I was ready to give up the protagonist role for a few important scenes.

But that doesn’t mean that some days I don’t wish for a mute button, a way to just be alone, to think only of myself.

Such a beautiful, profoundly true piece that you will likely resonate with; give it a read.

Tamara at Mockingbird, Don’t Write wrote an incredibly moving piece about mothers, grandmothers, anger and, well, Mother Nature herself when the tornadoes ripped through Alabama last year.

Cullman, Alabama Tornado AftermathNo family is immune to complications. And unfortunately my own has had its share of it. My mother’s and my relationship has always been strained. It reached a breaking point in my late teens and continued until I was 25 and my daughter was 2 years old. My mother never got to meet my daughter. She’d never seen pictures. She didn’t even know her exact birth or middle name. While most women have their mothers there with them as they begin their own journeys into motherhood, I did not have mine because of the many unresolved issues. It wasn’t until 2010 that we even spoke on the phone; the first time in two years.

Over the time span of 6 months we spoke on the phone and began rebuilding our relationship, leading up to April 27th, 2011, when tornadoes ripped through my home state of Alabama, taking the lives of several hundred people.

I urge you to keep reading her post, as it gives a voice to those mother-daughter relationships that aren’t perfect but may be able to salvaged out of the rubble.

I think these two posts -- that both go beyond just one day per year -- were a great way to kick off our More than Mother's Day series. You can submit your pieces for us to feature over the next few weeks leading up to Mother's Day. Learn how you can submit a post about what mothering, motherhood or mothers mean to you.

I look forward to celebrating with you through your words. Keep 'em coming!


Family Section Editor Jenna Hatfield (@FireMom) blogs at Stop, Drop and Blog and The Chronicles of Munchkin Land. She is an editor, writer and photographer.


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