Sometimes mothering is a thankless job. While I’ve certainly shepped some naches (that’s Jewish mother for ‘basking in the glow of my child’s accomplishments’) for things like good grades, playground kindnesses, and achievement awards (exclusive of stupid participation ribbons), much of the last 21 1/2 years has been spent in unrecognized toil.
I instructed my children years ago to call me Queen of the World (which they don’t do) in an effort to add more compliments to my life. They don’t do it so I programmed Siri to.
No matter how much I wish it were so, the fact remains that I technically didn’t birth them so they could tell me how wonderful I am (although I am…). I don’t know about you, but I don’t do all the things that I do in the day—like waking, making, brushing, loading, unloading, pouring, finding, signing , dropping off, picking up, getting, locating, calling, doing, laughing, listening, teaching, sourcing, buying, selling, organizing, sharing, tolerating, daring—for kudos. Sure, maybe a little gratitude would be nice, but it’s not necessarily expected.
I would be refreshing to get the kind of queenly recognition I deserve once in awhile.
You’ll agree that what we generally hear are complaints and how we never let them do anything and how we’re the worst and that we just nag, nag, nag. Sometimes, if we’re lucky, get a reluctant thank you.
But what we really want is a Mompliment.
Even if they’re veiled or concealed in childlike honesty, there’s no denying that complimenting your woman goes a long way, kids.
Sadly, my Momzheimers interferes with my total recall, and since there wasn’t really an Internet for half of my mothering years, I don’t have an online record of all the things the little precious beasts had to say. So, I’m relying on my memory for these few stand-out Mompliments.
On reading this that I wrote about him: Your writing has really improved from 2012 when it wasn’t that great.
When just randomly standing at the door putting shoes on: We’ve had an unconventional childhood and I liked it.
When sharing existential teenager thoughts: You made us feel loved and that’s all that matters
Upon eating the meat: Your steak is better than the Keg’s. We don’t need to go there anymore. Can I have another (as in ANOTHER WHOLE STEAK. Note to self: get a beef sponsor).
On coming home with a gorgeous blow out: No!! Put it back. I love your crazy hair. I want my mommy with the crazy hair.
Taking this one as I wish: You don’t care if the house is so clean like the other moms.
While being felt up by my 3 year old son: I like these boobies. They’re mine.
During special cuddle time: You’re so soft all over. Especially here *poke stomach*.
Randomly, once she emerged from her teenaged years: Mom, I told all my friends you’re my best friend.
After being too lazy to micro-manage: I’m lucky that you mostly let me do whatever I want.
Shock and awe: I like your outfit.
After a late night and a hard morning: You’re so pretty mommy. I like how you have those black circles under your eyes like a zombie.
It was only so he’d shut up: You’re the best Mommy. You drive all over to get me the best Pokemon cards.
After a sad day: You always make me feel better.
High Praise from teenagers: You’re not that embarrassing.
Taking it as I will: You’re really fast at texting.
Don’t tell Dad: My friends thought you were badass when you thought the sidewalk was part of the driveway and drove right over the barriers.
After giving good advice: You’re right.
All.The.Time: You don’t over-react like dad.
Hands-down Friday Night Dance Party favourite: You and your friends are way more fun than any teenagers I know.
I know that I’m not the only one whose kids like to make their Mommas feel special. So I asked Facebook…
Jodi: My daughter told me: You’re the best mommy because you know how to read. And that best thing I cook is turkey. I’d never cooked turkey other than the day I got pregnant. Oh well.
Michelle: I hugged my 7 year old yesterday, he said “you smell weird”. I said Bad weird? He says “oh no, good weird mommy”. ummmmmm, ok thanks.
Caron: Last night my 6 y/o son said “I’m so glad we were made for each other.”
Rhonda: Once they sent home a card from preschool that was full of reasons that all the kids loved their their moms. The other kids said things like my mom smells good, My mom reads to me, my mom makes good cookies. My son said, “I love my mom because she likes to take a long hot bath”.
Sonia: My then 4-year old daughter said, “I love your tummy mommy, it’s so soft & squishy!”
Patricia: You’re a good mommy but daddy is the fun parent.
Shannon: Jake, aged 5 pointed out “Your bum is like Jello Mommy, I like how it wiggles”.
Darlene: Well, you’re not young (as opposed to you’re old)…
Adele: I like it better when you’re not hairy.
Maureen: Daddy is a better driver than you, but you’re a better parker.
Jennifer: My daughter told me that my breasts are as flat and fluffy as my husband’s pancakes.
But, of all the compliments ever said, the best was one I received last weekend from an unlikely source: the Father.
As we drove away after a lovely visit and dinner with our university student: We have great kids. You did a good job.
Now that’s all I needed. Well, other than being told I’m pretty, and thin, and smart…
What’s the BEST Mompliment you’ve ever gotten?