Tuesday, October 21, 2008
 I just learned that this year marks the 25th anniversary of Cabbage Patch Kids. I have one specific memory that was sparked by this discovery. I was in third grade, about eight years old, living in Colorado. Cabbage Patch Kids were all the rage and every girl wanted one. Parents were going crazy trying to get their hands on one and so was I. Then some store close by was advertising that they had some in stock and they'd be available first thing the next morning. I vaguely remember my mom and our neighbor, Vicki scheming, planning how they were going to get a few dolls for us girls. I could hardly sleep that night, so excited that I might be the proud owner of a Cabbage Patch Kid the very next day. But when I woke up that morning instead of getting to go with my mom, I had to go to school. The suspense was killing me. I wanted one sooooo bad. Well, the morning came and went and nothing. Lunch time--nothing. And then, the knock on the mobile door. And Mrs. Chan opening the door and nodding. Then calling me over. And there was my mother, probably more excited than myself, the biggest smile across her face. "We got one!" Oh, I probably died and went to heaven right then and there. I don't remember much about the day or actually opening the doll. But I'll never forget my mom at that door, probably sacrificing her precious time, to share the excitement with me.
And I have to be honest, through the years, I've wondered every now and then how much my mom really loved me. She was often busy. I don't remember much one on one time with her. I don't think she ever sat down and played Barbies with me. She shouted a lot. She got mad a bunch. She was always working--running her own preschool and taking care of us eight kids. She was far from perfect. There are things she did that I wouldn't have done. But lately, as I struggle with motherhood and fail miserably, that one little memory of my Mom has changed my entire view of her. I can only imagine how tired she must have been. Exhausted, frustrated, struggling to keep her own head above water. Just like me. And yet, she found a way to tell me she loved me in so many little ways. She always read to us. She taught us how to sing. Whenever I was acting moody and depressed as a teenager, she always found a way to sit and chat with just me, even if it was for just a few minutes. She sewed us some pretty great Halloween costumes. She was always there to help with homework. She was always there.
And I think that's the thing about mothers. We have so many good intentions. We love our children desperately. And yet we are still so human. We make mistakes. We spend too much time cleaning. We just want to read a book without kids climbing on us. We want to pee alone. And sometimes we aren't the best moms. We shout. We scold. We throw our hands up in the air and wish we never had kids. We have to work. We forget to sing. We watch Oprah instead of playing Candyland. But we try our hardest, we do our best, and we'd give anything just to see our kids smile, just to know our children are happy, just to know they know we love them. And that's what I think my mom was trying to do for me, 25 years ago when she got in that long line to buy me a Cabbage Patch Kid.
posted by Shana # 3:32 PM 
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