Wildflower Writes

What does the ideal mom look like? Is it June Cleaver, wearing pearls while she vacuums and having dinner ready when dad walks in the door? Is it Lucy Ricardo, devoted mother still looking for her next big break on stage or screen, or at least a good adventure? Is it Roseanne Connor, keeping her kids in line with sharp remarks and always speaking her mind? Is it Abby O’Neil, the vegan, homeschooling, all-natural mom from Dharma & Greg who walks around in overalls and burns incense? Is it Reba Hart, a single working mom dealing with her teenage daughter’s pregnancy and her ex-husband’s new wife? Every mom has to decide for herself what motherhood is going to look like. For most people, no one is going to be harder on mom than she is on herself. As times change, society’s expectations of the role of mother change and evolve with them. I don’t know if there is any other time in history that has so many potential expectations of motherhood. Moms are supposed to be totally devoted t...

I was pulling into my driveway, just returning from a last minute shopping trip. I still didn’t have all the ingredients I needed to make a broccoli salad for Easter dinner and I had picked up some Puffs, decongestant and Vitamin Water to treat my nasty cold. It occurred to me, in bailing on most of my plans to go into a Benadryl-induced coma, I wasn’t going to have time to buy an Easter outfit or got a haircut before Sunday morning. I felt like such a loser. What kind of Easter was this going to be, anyway? I hadn’t made time to color eggs or buy Easter outfits for my kids prior to our Spring break trip. I hadn’t participated with Lent, Maundy Thursday, or Good Friday services. Our choir cantata was taking place the next weekend, since part of the choir was gone on vacations as well. The color of my nose would suggest celebrating another holiday as a certain reindeer. My kids weren’t even going to be home until the wee hours of the morning. Just another Sunday, I guess. As I...

I finally finished my work at 5:30, an hour and a half later than I had planned to leave the office. I was on my own for dinner. My husband had brilliantly and lovingly offered to take the children to Chuck E. Cheese for the evening. As I slid into the driver’s seat of my minivan and turned the key in the ignition, I tried to decide what to do. Eating at home would require cooking, and possibly grocery shopping. Wendy’s and Popeye’s were nearby, but a little old hat. By now I was pulling out of the parking lot and heading north. By the time I reached the end of the T-intersection, I thought maybe a barbecue sandwich at Dairy Queen would be the ticket. I headed east toward downtown. By the time I came to the first stop sign, I realized I didn’t really want any ice cream. I headed north. Was there an Arby’s on this side of town? No. Too bad. I needed caffeine, and a Jamocha shake would be perfect. Taco Bell always offers cheap, tasty food, and I could get one of those blue Mountain Dews…...