Warm Hands

When I was a teenager we lived for about 5 years in Iowa. The winters were both cold and humid--a chilling combination. Every time my mom got in the car to drive during the winter she always put on gloves. I, of course, was an invincible teen. I could not figure out what her problem was. Sure, the steering wheel was a little cold. But it was not that big of a deal. She could have driven just fine without them.

Now I am a mom. I live in the more temperate climate of North Carolina. But every time I drive in the winter I wear gloves. I have lots of pairs of gloves, so that I will always be able to find a pair. My teenagers probably wonder what my problem is--because it truly is not that cold.

Now I understand what my mother knew then. Being a mother means that there are many things that I cannot control. Being a mother means that there will be times that I will be tired, overwhelmed, frustrated, and under-appreciated. Being a mother means that I will have to cook meals that get complained about by at least one child day after day. Being a mother means that there will always be someone frustrated that they do not have clean underwear, or can't find their shoes or jacket. I'm glad I am a mother, but it is also a lot of work.

And so I wear my gloves when it is cold. Whatever else is going on, at least my hands will be warm.

Thanks, mom.