As seen in the May 2008 issue of Bella Magazine

Nothing like having a few teenagers to take the wind out of your sails. My little lovelies, for instance, take near constant delight in correcting me. It’s hard to imagine that I’ve misspoken, mispronounced or misjudged as often as I do now that I have a houseful of teens. They constantly point out my errors. It’s like living in a minefield.

“That’s not how you say it, Mom!”
“You just told us that a second ago!”
“I told you that first. Geez!”

Humble, her name is Mother of Teens. Mother of Teens is not paid in butterfly kisses and dandelion bouquets like her sister, Mother of Toddlers. Oh no, those days are long gone. Yet there are so many benefits to having Big Kids, as I lovingly call my teens. As a Mother of Teens, I extract my payment, er, love in other ways.
Consider this. Big kids can carry in all the groceries…and put them all away. Big kids can wash the car…and drive it to the library to return my overdue library books. They can cut their own toenails, brush their own teeth and in general, do all their own personal hygiene. (When they feel like it, that is.) Big Kids can make dinner …and do the dishes afterwards. It’s a delight. When you have teens, every day is Mother’s Day.

Now some might say that Sunday, May 11th, mark the date, Mother’s Day, is just another Hallmark holiday. Cynics. Many mothers would protest coyly, “I don’t need a WHOLE DAY” while secretly wondering why a 3-day weekend wouldn’t be more commemorative. I think that Hallmark took over where preschool teachers left off. Think about it. Preschool teachers do a glorious job with their Mother’s Day celebrations. I once was so desperate for recognition, I bought a new van so I wouldn’t miss the Mother’s Day Tea at preschool. (True story.) That hotplate with our child’s handprint still occupys a position of honor in the kitchen. Once out of preschool, however, the Love Fest Ends. It’s every child for himself. That’s why we need Hallmark…to remind, guilt or otherwise plague our offspring into sheepishly recognizing us, if only once a year.

Moms, relax. The accolades will come. They might not come on Mother’s Day. They may not be in a card that cost $4.95 and plays “Wild Thing.” But you’ll feel the love, in various ways, as your Big Kids become adults. Here are some moments I’ve either experienced or dreamed about.


Academic Award Day. You’ve stopped paying attention because the child being lauded sounds so perfect, so gifted, so wonderful that you know it can’t be yours. As you’re digging in your purse for a stick of gum, you hear your own child’s name called! With tears of pride, you realize your tissues are in the car…with the camera.

High School Field Trip Day. Other people’s sons and daughters fight to be in your car because they heard you are cool and that you stock in Skittles for the ride as well as let them listen to their radio station full blast. Your child can’t suppress a grin because, hey, that’s my mom.

Poker Day. You cajole your way into the game with a bunch of hairy teens who laugh at you and your ineptitude…until you win every hand.

Graduation Day. In the commencement address your valedictorian quotes Abraham Lincoln: “Everything I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.”

Wedding Day. The bride-to-be thanks you with sobs for raising the perfect mate for her. In particular she is grateful that he always lifts the seat and takes out the trash without being asked.

First Grandchild. They’ve decided to honor their sweet mother by naming their baby girl after you.

(Okay, this is where my kids draw the line. I’ve floated these fantasies out there and no one is cooperating. Julia did name her obese Lots-To-Love doll “Baby Martie” in hopes of satisfying me. I’ll take what I can get! )

So hang on, Mothers of Teens. Hang on, even if you have to make your own breakfast on May 11th. Hang on, even as you make dinner reservations so you don’t have to cook on “your special day.” You are loved. Dearly loved. The teens just like to keep it a secret, is all. But your day is coming. They’ll honor their mother one day. I’ve seen it in my dreams.

Martie Smith Byrd would like to take this opportunity to thank her mother, Claire, for raising such a nice girl. Thanks, Mom, for being Girl Scout Cookie chairman, picking me up from crew practice, and always liking what I write. I love you! Martie is a motivational speaker and freelance writer who lives in Roanoke.