I was taller than her in those days and I confess that I even bullied her. I could see the importance in everything that I wanted to do and she frustrated me with her inability to want anything more than to have a loving family. I rolled my eyes.

When we were around ten I fancied that I would grow up to be a famous archeologist (Indiana Jones MIGHT have had something to do with that fantasy). In my mind I traveled to Egypt and uncovered ancient pyramids beneath the hot sand. My cousin mentioned that the heat wouldn’t agree with her and it was too dangerous to travel that far with babies. I rolled my eyes.

By the time that we were teenagers she took one giant leap and decided to dedicate a year of her life to David Bowie, which I thought was ridiculous, but hey, it was a diversion from her absolute, unwavering path to marriage and motherhood. The years of idolizing rock stars passed and in her early twenties she married her high school sweetheart.

We’re grown now, both married with families of our own and we live eight hundred miles apart. Until last year, our families shared a beach house every summer and in this way we kept tabs on each other and watched our children grow. It turned out that archeology and sailing weren’t my destiny, but each year I showed up at that beach house with what I considered a glamorous story of my career and my achievements. She listened, laughed and sometimes poked fun at me, but her story never changed. Sure, she had hobbies and jobs, but what she raved about was her family. I rolled my eyes.

Recently, as difficult times were delivered in her life, she said to me, “It’s different for you. You always wanted other things and all I ever wanted was to have fun and be at peace with my solid family.” I didn’t roll my eyes. It was true and she had followed such a direct and determined path toward that goal that I was humbled.

As I began to think about what I would write in connection with the theme for this month’s magazine, images of my cousin continually swirled around my mind. All of those years when time seemed to be passing me by and I felt frustrated for not achieving the goals that I had set for myself, she was content. She achieved her dreams. Not only that, but she has selflessly set aside any desire for personal grandeur in order to bring stability, strength of character and great love to the lives of three children and to her husband.

She has that family that she has always dreamed about and they love her. She remains married to her high school sweetheart in one of the most loving marriages that I’ve ever had the privilege to witness and the close community of friends that surround them is nothing like I’ve seen in the life of anyone else. The beauty of her life strikes me often because it is full and satisfied. It isn’t without its trials, because none of us gets a free pass in that regard, but to live contentedly and happily is an achievement that few of us attain.

In Dr. Wayne Dyer’s book, “Living the Wisdom of the Tao”, he includes an affirmation that says, “There is no way to happiness, happiness is the way.” There is no greater achievement than living a full and happy life. Although I have met hundreds of people from all walks of life, I have never met anyone that doesn’t wish to live a happy life. No matter what our achievements may be, there is none that compares to a life that exemplifies happiness.

Webster’s dictionary gives a definition for achievement as, “to bring about a desired result”. My cousin has brought about her desired result and without spending years trying to figure out any inner conflict, she has discovered that happiness is the way. I respect her and am deeply grateful that she is a part of my life. May we all achieve and bring about our desired results in such a magnanimous way. I’m definitely not rolling my eyes anymore.

Image by blmurch

For many years I made my living as a mortgage loan originator, so I still have many friends in that business. As a result, I have become keenly aware of the market change in my area and have noticed a palpable shift in the energetic force around me. I have been searching for ways that I can positively impact my friends and neighbors that are going through difficult times. I believe firmly that as things change in our economy we will find ourselves more deeply connected than we have been for many years. In other words, we’re all going to need to help each other.

On my personal crusade of giving to others I’ve learned a few lessons about giving that I never expected would come up. Part of why I give is because I want my children to be giving people. I also want them to be emotionally strong and healthy, which has led me to a quirky question. What is the difference between charity and enabling?

It has come to my attention that throughout the years, although I always have the best of intentions, my giving to others leads me to frustration. Even when I give to my children there are times when I wind up feeling like I’ve hindered their progress instead of helping. When discussing this with my husband the other night he wisely said, “It seems to me that the difference between charity and enabling is what you expect out of the giving.”

He is absolutely correct and I have begun to evaluate my expectations when it comes time to give. You might think that this goes against the whole spirit of giving, but in order to be truly whole in our giving, it’s important to know how you feel about it. There are a few types of giving that we encounter regularly. Here are a few tips to figure out if you have expectations when you give:

1. Giving to our children. Of course we give to them because we love them. We give to them because we want to and because it is our desire that they have a full, joyous and complete life. Giving objects or things is usually not a problem, but there are ways that we give to our children that also involve expectation. If we give our children the privilege of doing something, we may also expect that they behave responsibly. It is important when I give my children latitude that I am also very clear about what I expect from them. Making the assumption that they know what I expect usually causes me stress in the end.

If you’re like me, your children have some chores around the house that they are expected to do on a regular basis. Things like keeping their rooms clean or helping to bring wood in during the winter. When my children ask to go out with a friend instead of working on their chores, it’s important for me to be clear about what needs to be done when they return. If I am not clear and I allow them to go, I wind up being upset later when they do not complete their chore. It feels at that point like an unreciprocated kindness.

It may seem like this isn’t giving at all, but giving to our family is just about the most important type of giving that we do. As a mother you give of yourself to your children every minute of the day and if care is not taken to express boundaries you begin to feel used and under appreciated. Part of our responsibility as a parent is to teach our children that with privilege comes responsibility, so being up front about the give and take in the relationship is an important aspect of that teaching.

2. Giving to charitable organizations. This is actually the easiest type of giving and the one that is most likely to be done purely with no expectation. When you donate canned goods or money to a group you rarely have an idea that you will get something in return. Choosing the type of organization that aligns with your values is important, but otherwise, this is usually done in anonymity and not likely to cause any frustration about expectation.

3. Giving to friends or family. There is no doubt that we need to pitch in together now more than any other time in our history. With a shortage of finances people will have need for food, for automobiles, for cash and for many other necessities. I’m a strong proponent of giving when and what you can, but it is important to check in with yourself to be sure that you have the item or time to give.

What are you giving and what do you expect in return? Do you expect that friend to be there for you when you have a need? If you’re lending an item or giving your time, have you been clear about the limitations? You’re idea of the outcome may not be the same idea that is shared by your friend, so communicating about it up front will prevent a strain in your friendship as well as on your own family and finances.

I hope that this giving season will encourage your generosity and that around the world we will pull together in our communities. Understanding that we are all a part of each other goes a long way toward knowing that when we help someone else we help ourselves. Giving without expectation is not as easy as it originally may seem, so check in with yourself as you give so that the true spirit of giving fills you and brightens your life as you share it with others.

The Shoulds instead begin to define you and mold your days into drudgery until there is only a hazy line left between the Shoulds and the Musts. At that point, the Wants don’t even register on the radar. The Musts are the facts. They’re the things that, without your attention each day will lead to the harm of someone or something else. In motherhood, it is vitally important to be able to tell the difference between the Shoulds and the Musts. If you stray from this knowing, you may find yourself reluctant to get out of bed each day to meet the challenges before you.

Many mothers strive to meet a standard that is really only an image. We find the image by observing what we think we see in others, or reading advice books and magazines. The Shoulds creep in quickly telling you how your children Should be dressed, how often they Should go to the doctor, what you Should label as a behavior problem and how children Should perform in school.

The Musts just seemed like obvious things like feeding them, providing them shelter and loving them. Aren’t those things that we all do anyway? You can go years chasing the Shoulds and then one day it becomes clear that your children are well dressed, behave nicely in public and bring home astounding school grades, but neither you nor your children are the type of people that you hoped for!

It is at this point, that you are finally able to redefine the Musts and take a good look at your Wants. When you take a good look at the Musts of your mothering, you will find that they don’t look anything like what other people determine them to be. Striving to create Musts out of your Shoulds depletes the joy in your life and inhibits a true relationship with your child.

Taking some time to write down the Musts have helped me to sort them from the Shoulds. One of the Shoulds that I frequently fall back into is the children’s school performance and I find it to be a particularly debilitating Should. When it rears its ugly head, I have to remind myself of the Must part and then I allow myself to enjoy the Wants that I have for the children.

First, I remember that I Must give my children an opportunity for education. I expect a minimum in their grade average, but it is more important to me that I stick to the Must of teaching them personal responsibility and accountability rather than succumbing to the pressure of merely performing to grading standards. I Want them to be well adjusted and not to just be honor roll students that are already feeling too much stress to get through the day without counseling or medication.

It is these types of Shoulds that prevent us from being meaningful for our kids. Teaching them how to cope with the pressures of school, activities and responsibilities at home may sometimes create an illusion that they are not keeping up with societal standards, but when we choose the Must of having the patience in the process over the pressure of the Should of their performance, we give them a gift for long term stability in their lives.

I give this to you as an example, but you certainly will find your own pet peeve Shoulds. Don’t let them bog you down into a life that you don’t Want to live! Write down yours Musts and spend a day only attending to the things that you Must do. When you feel comfortable with allowing some of the Shoulds to slide to the wayside, play a little game and allow your Wants to creep back in.

Wants are directly connected to your personal values. Your personal values are what you will pass on to your children in the most profound way because it’s done without words, but rather through actions and your own behavior. When your shoulders are feeling much more free of the Shoulds, and you’re absolutely clear on the Musts, wiggle your toes in the Wants and start to write them down.

Is that high pressure career something that you Want, or is it a product of the Shoulds of your youth? Is being home with your children a part of your Wants or would it be more conducive to everyone’s happiness if you have a regular babysitter? Is a sparking clean house a Must or is it a Should weighing you down? What are your fun Wants? Do you Want to dance with your girlfriends on a Saturday night? Do you Want to set some fun time aside with your husband? Your Wants create balance with your Musts and eliminate the Shoulds for good!

The Wants are important and they cannot be clouded by the Shoulds. Separating the Shoulds, the Musts and the Wants is about more than taking an hour a week to yourself for yoga, massage or any other activity that you enjoy. Coming to terms with them as a mother is a freedom to explore and live not only your most fulfilling life, but your most personally powerful life!

I began the steep climb and with each step my mind checked off my safety items: rubber gloves, mask, hair tied back tightly and a baseball cap for extra caution. Multiple trash bags tucked into the back pocket of my jeans, two rags and some multi-purpose cleaner were my arsenal. I hesitated for a moment and a step creaked urging me on toward my final destination.

Reaching the top step I quickened my pace lest I falter in my determination. The doorway that loomed before me opened to a brilliant stream of sunshine and for a moment I was lulled into believing that what lie beyond that opening was less terrible than my mind thought it would be. Suddenly, I heard a crunching sound as my foot reached beyond the threshold and the fantasy was shattered! My heart stopped and my breathing felt shallow as my mind whirled around the possibilities that could have caused such a sound.

There before me lie the debris, clothing and leftover food items of a tweenage girl. She was the same tweenage girl that had once been my mischievous toddler and before that, my chubby baby. And, yes, I mean tweenage. It’s the latest term to describe those budding years ranging from 10 to 12 where a child is no longer a child, but isn’t quite a teenager. For mom, the tweenager can be shocking, loving and confusing all within a matter of minutes. Not to mention a slob, which is what I was facing today.

I know all about the responsibility that I have to teach her about keeping her room clean, her clothes taken care of and her bed made. I’ve calmly explained it, other times shouted it, created consequences for the failure to make it happen, screamed, cried and finally, come up here to do it myself. You might say that I’m giving in. Failing to keep her nose to the grind and teach her a lesson. And all of that is probably true, but then, there is something else.

While tweenage is difficult, I foresee teenage to be something more of a challenge. Her room might look worse then and if we fight about it, she’ll have the ability to spirit herself away somewhere far from me where she can fume about all the years that I’ve been nagging her about her room. She’ll stop talking to me about the things that make her sad, mad and generally confused and she’ll completely convince herself that I don’t love her.

And there, lies the real reason that I’m here all decked out in my own version of a HAZMAT suit to clean her room. I’ll clean it because I love her and having it clean is more important to me than it is to her. Maybe some day, when she has her own place it will mean something to her to see things clean and orderly. She’ll certainly remember when I taught her how to clean a room, she’ll remember the times that I, in frustration, sometimes cleaned it with her and also the times when I just went and did it by myself and said nothing. Those times when, instead of choosing to have a brawl, I just did something to show her that I love her.

It won’t be the clean room that matters to her all that much, but it will be one less time that I nag her about it, and that has some meaning. She might not put all the pieces together now or even when she’s a teenager, but some day, it will occur to her that I could have nagged more, I could have yelled more and instead, at least sometimes, I just chose to clean her room.

I won’t give up trying to get her to do it on her own. That would be shirking my responsibilities, but every once in awhile, I’ll don this ridiculous outfit, make my way up the intimidating staircase and begin the job of lovingly removing unidentifiable goopy stuff off of her carpet. Soon enough, whether she keeps it clean or not, she’ll have her own place. I hope she’ll invite me for a visit. When she does, it won’t matter to me if it’s clean or if it isn’t. I’ll remember that I did my best to show her love and we’ll have that to show for it, which has a lot more mileage than a clean bedroom.

I think that’s what love’s got to do with it.

All of this comedic chaos is converging on me as another Mother’s Day is approaching and I’m wondering if I couldn’t use a view my own mother with a little more humor. I know that I’m not alone when I say that my relationship with my mother has been, at the very least, complex and rarely humorous.

I have come to understand that I need humor in my day to keep the balance. As often as I’ve wished for a rulebook or instruction manual for mothering, I’ve also spent just as much time being grateful that there isn’t. It just never occurred to me that my mother would have had any doubts of her own. She’s my mother. Isn’t she the source of all things? She isn’t allowed to have faults? Looking at it from the point of view of a child is a little different.

Think about it. Our children BELIEVE in us! They expect that we’ll have an answer for them when they don’t have one of their own and this continues into adulthood. The problem is that we don’t have all the answers and we’re bound to disappoint our beloved children when they realize that we are as human as they are. Isn’t that the core of most of the difficult mother-child relationships?

It hadn’t occurred to me until now that my mother spent just as many sleepless nights wondering if she did the right thing. As a young adult, I could have made a list of all the things that I thought that she did wrong and maybe I even had answers for how I thought that she should have behaved. I never accounted for the fact that she did the best that she could. She mothered with all of the knowledge and ability that she had. I wasn’t abused or mistreated, but for a very long time, I thought that she could have done a better job.

So here it is, another Mother’s Day and I’m projecting into the future. I see my children and I realize all the areas where I could have been a better mother and I’m realizing how hurt I will be when they remind me of that. I’ve loved them and wanted all of the best for them and basically, done the best that I could. It isn’t perfect and no matter how much I wish to be perfect, I never will be. Won’t I want some understanding from my children when they get to sit in the adult seat?

Do we ever take the time to consider how young or how old our mother might have been? What was she experiencing in her life that would have impacted her ability to pay attention or care for us? What were her needs?

My own mother was only 21 when I was born. When I look back, I put enormous expectations on what I think she should have been, but I would never expect so much from someone so young now. It takes the doubts that you experience being a mother to appreciate how scared and uncertain your own mother must have been when she stood in the shoes that you now stand in. I can honor her now, let go of all that baggage of expectation that I’ve carried around and allow her to be all that she is. A wonderful, beautiful, magical human being and… mother.

When I was in my twenties I exercised every day and I was very fit. I hoped that maker’s of movies would decide to make the next superhero movie a Wonder Woman movie. I was convinced that, with a little help from Bausch & Lomb in order to get blue eyes, I could be the next Linda Carter!

Well, Hollywood never called and suddenly (over a ten year period) four children appeared in my life. My hopes of ever being Wonder Woman were dashed, but a strange thing occurred. Slowly, each month, each year I began to develop real life super powers!

One of the very first changes is the super power hearing. You’re able to hear small children getting into trouble even when you have the blender going and they’re outside! Your eyes open wide and you cock your head to the side to listen carefully and sure enough you can hear them whispering and conspiring through the walls about their devious plans!

There are some very powerful aspects of this super hearing. The first is not only are you able to hear every wayward crinkle and snap that they make, but you are also keenly aware that silence means trouble. You’re not actually able to leap over tall buildings in a single bound in order to get to where they are, but woe it is to anyone that gets in your path as you’re running!

Thankfully, the super hearing can be turned off. Wonder Woman needed to go to her home of Amazon women every once in awhile to restore herself. A mom just develops the skill to tune it all out sometimes.

There were always some great scenes in that show where Wonder Woman would lift a car or tear open a wire gate with her super strength. Who knew that I’d be able to roll giant boulders that were crushing a child’s leg or push a 125 pound dog that had decided to sit on a baby?

Wonder Woman could use her super vision to see through buildings or sometimes she could even see people a great distance away. As it turns out, I have this power too! I should have been ready for this one though, since I always thought that my own mother had eyes behind her head. It drives my children crazy, but it’s always worth a good laugh when they notice that I have caught them at something that they thought I’d never be able to see!

Just like Wonder Woman I stand up for right and wrong among my tribe. I fight for the things I believe in and teach my children to cheer for an underdog if they have the chance.

I can’t remember if Wonder Woman had a super sense of smell, but there never has been a mother that couldn’t smell a dirty diaper from a fabulously far distance. Even better is that this sense of smell picks up smoke faster than a smoke detector can go off, or the smell of a gas leak or even when the pet has had an accident in the house. It’s a very handy super power.

It seems that mother’s have been given a few things that even Wonder Woman didn’t get to have. For example, my kisses have the magic power to make tears disappear and to diminish the pain of booboos and bellyaches. My hugs go a long way toward calming my children’s cries of injustice and just one of my words can either brighten or destroy an entire day for those that I love!

So I’m not going to be the next Linda Carter. I’ll never even get to wear that nifty suit unless I have the nerve to put it on for a Halloween party, but as it turns out, just like every other mother that I know, I’m wonder woman anyway. Oh, and if I ever wear that suit on Halloween, I’d develop the power to make my children moan, groan and roll their eyes to the back of their heads!

You become accustomed to the attention as you answer questions about when you’re due, what you’re having and whether or not you have the room set up with a theme. You take classes and learn about breast feeding, car seats, diapers and what you should have at home to receive baby. You have a baby shower where all of the gifts are addressed with your name and all the time you are unaware that you’re slipping further and further away from an identity that you call your own.

The day of birth finally arrives and in an instant everything changes. You don’t realize it at first. In fact it could take years before you become fully aware of it, but in that instant of birth, when your name becomes mom you’ve become a person that is more needed than you’ve ever been in your life and less seen than anyone else in the world.

Your spouse, parents and friends may visit you just after the arrival of baby and they’ll begin to ask you, “So how does mom feel?”. As the years roll on, baby goes to pre-school and you’ll meet other mother’s in the hallway and they’ll say, “Are you Ben’s mom?”. Still later, baby goes to school and the invitations to birthday parties begin and you find yourself calling for those RSVP’s and leaving messages that say, “Hi, this is Eric’s mom calling about the party.”

All of the adorable crafts and cards brought to you in love by your children will all be addressed to mom. You’ll consider them treasures and proudly show them off.

Probably the most disturbing of all is that your spouse may also fall into the trap of forgetting your name. For years you may not have noticed that he addressed you as “hon” or “sweetheart” or any number of affectionate names. These are all terrific, but when he starts to talk to you as if he is talking through the children, you feel distinctly concerned. He may say, “Does mommy know where Gillian’s shirt is?” The moment that this occurs may be your first clue that your name is missing.

One day, eleven years and four children later, I woke up, looked in the mirror and said my name. It was foreign, difficult and just plain weird. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it! I love being mom, but I knew at that moment that the most important thing that I could do for my kids was not to forget myself.

The first thing that I did was ask my husband to call me Cheryl. Hon is nice, but Cheryl suits me much better at this point in my life. I don’t think he likes it because he so rarely uses my name. It has been a difficult change for him, but I think he sees me more and I love to hear him say it. Of course, my children don’t call me Cheryl, but when I meet other mothers I have committed to asking for their name and making my best effort to remember it. When I reply to those birthday party invitations I’m careful to say, “Hi, this is Cheryl, Eric’s mother.”

I’ve found my missing name! I have to remember that it took me eleven years to notice that it was gone, so I’m gentle with myself in rediscovering it. Your name is the way that you’ve addressed yourself for a long time. It’s important! I might research the history of my name or the meaning in numerology, or possibly read about people that have shared my name or the derivative of it now that I’m rediscovering it for myself. This path of rediscovery is fun.

I know that I’ll always be mom. I never want to stop hearing that name! I know also that I’m still a loving wife, but that being Cheryl keeps me from being invisible and helps me to love them all without losing myself.

If you’re a mom and your name is missing, make 2008 the year of rediscovering it and at the same time, rediscovering you.