Once Upon a Time

As I left the house this morning to have an unpleasant but necessary “you’re at that age” routine medical procedure, I reconfirmed with my daughter that grandpa would be over in a few minutes to drop her off at school instead of me.  Her eyes grew big with alarm and I was ready to reassure her that I would be fine, “nothing to worry about”, when she blurted out, “did you leave me any coffee?”  So that was it. My daughter’s routine was disrupted, and it better not have included the morning cup of coffee she was used to sneaking from the coffee pot. Oh, how times have changed.

Once Upon a Time originally posted on Mother’s Day 2012 when my daughter was 12

Once Upon a Time I was royalty, or at least that is how I felt when I was pregnant. My adoring followed my every move and expressed constant concern for my well-being. Doors opened seemingly on their own, hands reached out to help my wobbly frame negotiate stairs and other tricky terrain, and strangers picked up things I dropped. Friends and family ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ over my basketball belly. They touched it without asking, because after all there is no such thing as personal space when one is pregnant. The baby inside is communal property.

The day I delivered my daughter into the world was magical. It was also the day my royal life ended. I did not abdicate my throne.  It simply disappeared just as Cinderella’s pumpkin coach vanished at midnight. The entourage that followed me into the hospital that day doted on me until I delivered. Then they abruptly left the room to follow into the nursery the real reason they were there. A 7-pound newcomer to world made her debut that night and siphoned off my gaggle of faithful subjects. I sat alone for about an hour, tethered to machines while her highness’s fandom kept watch over her. As I waited alone I thought, “So this is my life now”. 

Once Upon a Time I was Elaine D Walsh: writer, wine enthusiast, foodie, traveler, reader, furniture restorer, and home renovator. I filled my weekends and vacations with my many passionate pursuits. After giving up my throne, I took on new pursuits: play dates, Mom’s Club outings, Chuck E Cheese afternoons, McDonald’s with play areas, parks outfitted with a myriad of playground equipment, malls with play zones and any other kid-friendly places that could safely corral a pack of energy-filled toddlers.  Somewhere along the way as I drove around the county meeting up with other moms to play a zone defense and protect our children as they ran about and chatting in mommy dialect, Elaine D Walsh morphed into a new identity…“Courtney’s Mom”. But this new life came with certain superpowers.

One Upon a Time I was a Superhero with superpowers.  My kisses could heal bruised knees, my arms could re-energize the tired, my words could comfort and sooth, my lullabies were Grammy worthy, and my mere presence could ward off the bogeyman and any other villain intent on instilling fear in the hearts of children.  And then kryptonite entered my life in the form of a tweenager and weakened my superpowers. Nothing works against it. Oh, sometimes the atmospheric changes disrupt it momentarily, but never for long. My cape is tattered; my outfit with the big M on the chest doesn’t fit.  Even my singing voice has somehow changed into an off-key annoyance. I wait for the bat phone to ring and call me out of my super hiding place to save the day. But alas, it is silent.

I am told by other Superhero Moms that someday my powers will be restored and morph into something different and will look something like this…Once upon a time I was like the Dali Lama, filled with wisdom and understanding.  My advice and counsel sought out and appreciated, my life’s experiences meaningful, Once Upon a Time.

Today is Mother’s Day 2020 and my daughter is 20. Many chapters in my life have been written since posting this blog in 2012. I’m glad to write the very last Once Upon a Time are the chapters I am living now.  And it feels good.

Mom graffiti photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

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