Because that’s what moms do

By Mark Wallace Maguire

I don’t know how she does it.

I don’t pretend to.

And I don’t mean just physically, but mentally, emotionally and spiritually as well.

I’m talking about my wife, and in this case, in particular, her role as the mother of my children.

How does any mother do what she does is amazing. It is hands-down the hardest job in the world. Caregiver, nurse, teacher, psychologist, tutor, parent, role model, chauffeur, sociologist, chef, maid and counselor. Those are just a few of the job duties that fall under the job description of ‘mother.’

I don’t know how she does it.

We’ve got two boys. Our ten-year-old is as boy as you can get, which means he is into all boy things such as building forts in the woods, having impromptu water gun fights with the other kids in the neighborhood, digging up worms, digging up the yard and digging up just about everything. He is not a bad boy, just mischievous and curious. He embodies a phrase by the Southern writer Ferroll Sams who said something to the effect, “He wasn’t a bad boy, there just wasn’t enough to tell him what not to do.”
Example? Oh, I’ve got plenty. Here are just a few from the last ten years.
Drawing on the house. Painting on the house. Hammering random things into the house. Lighting paper airplanes on fire and then throwing them inside the house. Throwing butter onto the kitchen ceiling inside the house. Bringing random creatures inside the house. (You see why he plays outside a lot?)

Yep. I don’t know how she does it.

Our younger son has another peculiar set of circumstances. He has special needs which presents challenges in every aspect of his life. He is also 9, which means attending to every aspect is difficult due to his size alone. Then, there are the other parts of that equation: Driving him to and from therapies, toting him to various doctor’s appointments, brushing his teeth, teaching him to eat, helping him in and out of the car and more.
Like, his brother, he has his own brand of destruction. And while it isn’t as creative, it does have detrimental effects upon our collective sanity.

I don’t know how she does it.

As a music teacher at a metro Atlanta preschool, she also has other ‘children’ of her own. And like all teachers, they are not only her ‘children’ one year, but every year thereafter. In other words, when she sees a child and their parents at the store or in church, they still remember her and she remembers them. She’s been teaching for quite a few years now so this number of our outside family continues to grow.

I don’t see how she does it.

Of course, there’s me. She’s not my mom. She doesn’t try to mother or smother me. But she does have to live with me, put up with me and bear with me on a good day and throughout a bad week.
All in all, you can see why I think she is the hardest working woman I know.

I don’t see how she does it.

But she does. Because she’s a mother.

And that’s what they do.