May 10th is mother's day in Mexico, -Felicidades a mi madre, a mis tias, mi suegra, a mis cuñadas,
to my friends-. The celebration starts at the night before, with "serenatas", husbands or children singing at the door (when there is no balcony handy) of some "lucky ones". Than, food, and cakes and presents, music... and at the end of the day a very tired woman fullfilled with lots of work (from the cooking and dishes) and love not given to her since Christmas.
But well, what reflexion comes to me with this M-day? Of course, the first one is that motherhood is a difficult task involving all kind of skills, that I don't know if I cover all of them. -possibly not-. Because, sometimes I get frustrated, I get angry and lost in the middle of my thoughts and questions to my-self, if I'm doing a good job with my two girls.
But as Frodo Baggings (from the Lord of the Rings), this task is appointed to me, and just me is the one that can do it!
For me having them both since the day of their birth, placed over my ached tummy, warm and still curled, crying with red faces, made me undestood that motherhood is more about them than me. That the woman they know as mamá was born that day too.
When Aitana was a little girl, I used to ask her: How did you do to be such a beuty inside of me? And she said, I did it alone.
Keep them warm, not hungy and happy, is all what they need. How? charge it to my bill girls, I'll figure it out!
Feliz Dia de las Madres!
Not flesh of my flesh.
nor bone of my bone but still miraculously
MY OWN
Don't ever forget, even for one single minute,
you didn't grow under my heart...
BUT IN IT.
Anonymous