MOTHERS ARE NOT PERFECT

The little child who gives you a hug for no reason; who believes you can make her hurts go away; and who knows you can personally protect her from the monsters under the bed; suddenly turns into a stranger who marches into the world on her own without a backward glance and personally holds you responsible for ruining her life by speaking to her friends. Motherhood! It’s a wild and crazy journey that at times seems totally out of our control.

Me with daughter Katie at her
Bridesmaid's luncheon 2006.

        I would like to say that my two children always thought I was the perfect mom. Yes, I would like to say that; but, of course, it wouldn't be true. But as I watch them become parents and self-sufficient adults, I know that I did many things right. As I watch our daughter keeping up with her super-energetic toddler, I am amazed at her stamina and patience, even when her head hurts and she is tired. It is so satisfying to watch my little girl transform into such a caring wife and mother; and my little boy grow to be a loving husband and father.

Me with son Peter before his wedding in 2007.

       For all of the books on raising a child, there is no simple guide that fits all families. The truth is that being a mother is
hard work. And there is no such thing as a non-working mother. Whether a mother works outside the home like our daughter-in-law who is a teacher or stays home full-time like our daughter, every mother is a full-time working mom. Even when apart, a mother is always mentally with her child, thinking about the cute things they do and concerned about how they are getting along without her.

My mother, Kathryn Turner Shattles, with
my children, Katie and Peter, in 1983.

      There is also no such thing as a perfect mother. We get tired; we get angry; we run out of patience; we go out to dinner or a meeting and leave our child with a baby-sitter; we say embarrassing things and serve meals that aren't their favorite foods. But we also share our children’s snugly hugs and wipe runny noses and kiss their bruises. We give up a new dress so they can have new shoes. We go to theme parks rather than resorts and piano recitals rather than symphonies.

           Perfection is over-rated. A good mother is not perfect, yet, with her imperfections, she teaches her children life-lessons. The main criterion for a good mom is to continue to love her children, including their imperfections. A mother knows that the love she gives and receives will outweigh any flaws and imperfections.

     The best mothers are real people. They don’t usually wear pearls and a fancy dress for cooking and cleaning like on a 50’s sitcom. Sometimes they laugh and sometimes they cry. Most times they’re happy but sometimes they’re sad. Most times they speak calmly but sometimes they raise their voice. Yes, the best mothers are real people, slightly flawed, but always, always loving their children, ready with a hug and smile and a word of encouragement – no matter how old the child may be.

THE GIFT OF FAMILY MEMENTOS

      Somewhere between being really sick and being on the way to recovery, I received a spirit-lifting package in the mail. My cousin Robert had been clearing out his late mother’s accumulation of memorabilia and he generously shared photos and newspaper clippings with his cousins.

            As I sat with the pictures and clippings spread out around me, I was transported back through the years, to a time before my birth. One clipping in particular was extra special. The article, from the Atlanta Journal on March 25, 1944, was all about my paternal grandmother, Mary Dorothy Shattles. The headline read: “Atlanta Service Mother Woman-of-All Work”.

            The article began: “Superwoman, War Mother of the Year or Woman Who Lived in the Shoe – pick your title and Mrs. James Thomas Shattles of 393 Park Avenue will fit it. Mrs. Shattles has five sons in the service, each in a different branch of the armed forces, and she has two sons-in-law who are servicemen. With five of her boys gone, Mrs. Shattles still runs a busy household of 12, for in addition to herself and her husband, there are three single daughters and a son,  two children and two of her sons’ wives, one of whom has a year-and-a half-old son, who make their home with her.

            It continues: “Mrs. Shattles is a war worker who puts in a full week at the Atlanta Paper Company, making eyeshields that protect our soldiers from cutting sandstorms or burning gas. And she’s the cheering section for Mr. Shattles, a Civilian Defense block warden when he is trying to put over a current drive.”

            The article goes on to mention each of her sons and their branch of the service, including my dad, Sergeant David Shattles, “a turret gunner and flight engineer on a bomber, who has been awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, and the Air Medal with three Oak Leaf clusters.”

            The article ended with: “It keeps a woman busy, keeping up with a family like that. But Mrs. Shattles has some leisure on Sunday, so she teaches a Sunday school class and catches up with her duties a president of the Woman’s Society of Christian Service.”

            My sister, my cousins and I have been blessed with a family legacy of Christian values and of service to country. What a cherished memento to have a sample of this legacy preserved in a newspaper article from the past.

Hapeville: Hometown of Jeff Foxworthy, Chick-fil-A, and me!

When I was growing up the name of my town was often mis-heard by strangers. Did you say hateville, they would ask? No, it’s Hapeville, named after the Hape family. It was, and still is, a friendly small town tucked up against the Atlanta city limits

It was a mostly middle-class community, with our parents working at the air lines, which were just becoming a big industry, at the local Ford assembly plant, and at small businesses or larger businesses in the city (Atlanta).

We had three elementary schools and one high school. Middle schools had not been invented yet. We went to our elementary school from grades one through seven and then transitioned into the high school.

Our town wasn’t a perfect place to live; but it was a great place to call home. Church was a big part of our lives; we had a tiny branch of the Atlanta library; a town swimming pool; parks, and a recreation center. We received a solid education; we learned manners and morals and citizenship. We played outside without fear; and ate dinner as a family. In the Hapeville of my youth we enjoyed a sense of community; of belonging; of knowing personally our classmates and our neighbors.

Kathy B. Garrett, Jeff Foxworthy, Cathy S. Lipsett and Allan Lipsett

Comedian Jeff Foxworthy wasn’t in my class; he is a bit younger. Recently, however, while my Hapeville classmate and friend Kathy Bradford Garrett was visiting me, we went to the Six Flags for its 40^th Anniversary. Jeff Foxworthy was on stage for this special celebration. Kathy and I had our picture taken with him after the show and told him we, too, were graduates of HHS. He was very down-to-earth and seemed to appreciate meeting fellow Hapeville grads. I must give a disclaimer as I refer to Foxworthy and Hapeville. He has become a success defining being a redneck. I know he couldn’t have learned this from his classmates or neighbors at HHS.

For an upcoming class reunion, our other local celebrity plays a role. We will dine on Chick-fil-A. The Dwarf House is one of those places of which every Hapeville person has special memories. If you have to ask, “what is the Dwarf House” you didn’t grow up in Hapeville. It was at this small eatery that Truett Cathy created his now famous Chick-fil-A recipe. Back then, the Dwarf House was just a wonderful family-owned gathering place with good food and friendly people. It’s the place we have to return to whenever we are anywhere near the Southside of town.

Hapeville, in many ways, is no longer the same community of my youth. The high school has become an elementary school; and the high school is now a consolidated one in a neighboring town; Eastern Air Lines, where my father worked, is no longer in existence; and the airport has moved to Clayton County. The Ford Plant has closed and there are rumors that the land will become a planned development.

Few of my classmates still live in the town anymore; many have moved to Fayette County or Henry or, like me, to Cobb. We are spread out throughout the country; but wherever we go, what ever become as adults, we are all the better from growing up in a small town called Hapeville.

HONORING OUR SON PETER ON HIS FIRST FATHER’S DAY

            I have a photo in front of me, of our son, Peter, wearing a backpack filled with his happy little daughter at her first baseball game. They are in front of the Nationals Stadium in D.C., Peter wearing his Atlanta Braves hat. Lilly has on a Braves shirt, covered by a Nationals bib. (Her mom, Ann-Bailey, is a Nationals fan). We have other similar photos of the two of them, Peter with the special baby backpack with Lilly on a family hike in the Virginia mountains; Peter with Lilly in a smaller pack at the Woodruff Arts Center, viewing the art.

            It is so heartwarming to watch our grown-up son interacting with his baby daughter. Lilly Bell is only nine months old, but she has already spent some amazing quality time with her dad (and mom).

            This will be Peter’s first Father’s Day as a Dad. He comes from a long line of loving, caring, interactive fathers. He has had a great role model in his own father and fatherhood seems to come naturally to him. Each male must find his own style of parenting, but he is guided by the fathers who have been a part of his life.

            What does it take to be a great father? Love certainly must be the first ingredient. Without that, there is no foundation for the role. Although I’m sure it must happens, I can’t imagine a father, who, upon meeting his child, does not feel a bond, a kinship, and a deep swelling of love. The other fatherly traits build on this instinctual love. Kindness, patience, nurture: all of these are important components of fatherhood. It’s also important to give discipline and instruction, offered with love. Conversations are also important; not one way monologues, but speaking and listening. Already Peter and Lilly Bell have conversations, although her vocabulary is somewhat limited at the moment. But he talks to her, reads to her, and listens proudly to her babbling, excited by sounds that are becoming actual words.

            I have a lot of pictures in my mind from Peter’s youth: Allan helping him build a racer for the Scouts Pinewood Derby; the two of them cutting the grass, as Peter followed his dad with his toy mower; the two of them going on a Scout camping trip; and Allan watching Peter in a play or a soccer match. There has always been time set aside for interaction; time for being together, sometimes as a whole family, sometimes just father and son or daughter.

            Just as Peter and his sister, Katie, were blessed with a wonderful dad Lilly is blessed to have Peter as her caring, loving dad.

THERE’S A SPECIAL BOND BETWEEN MOTHER, DAUGHTER

(I wrote and published the following column a week after our daughter’s birth; right before Mother’s Day 1983. This month she celebrates her 29^th birthday and her first Mother’s Day as the mother of her own daughter. Now, she shares the special Mother-Daughter bond not only with me but with her own daughter.)

Other mothers told me that having a daughter is very special, an experience that I didn’t want to miss. They kept telling me to “think pink” and hope for a girl.

But I already had a little boy so I knew that boys are just as nice to have as little girls and that two little boys would do just fine. My “mother’s intuition” told me that the second baby would be another male and that their daddy would have two sons to follow him around and imitate his every move.

I was wrong and I’m glad. On a beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon, May 1 (1983), a beautiful little girl was born. And from the first moment that I held her, a special bond was formed between mother and daughter.

            When she looks at me with her dark, round eyes, already so expressive, her dainty lips forming a little “ooh” I feel that we are already communicating in a special mother-daughter way.

            As I feed her, we have delightful chats about her future. We discuss whether she’ll wear her hair long or short and I tell her that she has a mother with absolutely no talent for fixing hair.

            We talk about clothes and I tell her how beautiful she’ll look in ruffles but that she can wear jeans for keeping up with her very active big brother. I tell her about the books she will enjoy when she gets a little older, books that her mother once enjoyed. I tell her about Heidi and Little Women and other classic tales.

            And there are some things that I tell Mary Catherine that are the same things that I told her big brother, Peter, as he and I sat together in his nursery two years before. I tell her that she must become the very best person she can; that she must discover her own personal talents, develop them and use them in the best way possible.

            Mary Catherine and I discuss her future, sitting together in her nursery. We discuss the facts of life of being female – how in her future perhaps people will give females more credit for the work they do. How, when she is helping run a business like her mommy does, that people will not give all the credit to the males.

            Yes, there really is a special bond between a mother and daughter. Just like there is a special bond between mother and son. Nothing can take away the special relationship between Peter and me. But another dimension has opened in my life.

            Whereas Peter looks to his Daddy to learn how to act as a man, Mary Catherine will look to me to learn how to act as a woman. It is an awesome responsibility being a role model. It’s almost as frightening as it is exciting and challenging. Already, I see Peter imitating his father in the way he stands and the phrases he chooses.

            Standing in the kitchen the other day, watching the two of them together in the back yard, I saw how eager Peter is to do what his dad does. As Allan scooped things up in his shovel and tossed them over the fence, Peter, a few paces behind, scooped things up in his little shovel and tried hard to toss them over the fence as well.

            Like father; like son; like mother; like daughter. Our little imitators are watching and so the challenge is ours, to be the best person we can, not perfect, but as good as we can be.

            It might be easier on a mother having two sons, but I think it will be more exciting and challenging having both a son and a daughter. Mary Catherine and I have only had a week together but the bond is already formed. The other mothers were right – a daughter is very special indeed.

           

NATIVITY PLAYS PROMINENT ROLE IN FAMILY CHRISTMAS

As I take each piece from the worn, cardboard storage box, I marvel that it they have lasted so well for almost 40 years. This will be the 38^th Christmas that I have set up my special Nativity scene. It’s very traditional with special touches added from my childhood and throughout our married life.

The first piece is the stable, looking a little worn; some of the thatch is coming off the top, probably a lot like the first stable in Bethlehem. Mary and Joseph are then placed in the stable along with a cow and a donkey. I also place two special white lambs that I have had since I was a young girl with my first Nativity scene. The Innkeeper stands outside with his lantern, making sure they are settled comfortably. It’s a humble setting for a couple awaiting the birth of such a special child.

Next, I place the Shepherds and sheep into the field, off stage from the stable. I imagine the surprise of those long ago herders who were suddenly given amazing news by the Angels. The good news of the Holy birth came first to humble men in the fields, rather than to the Royalty of the land. They didn’t question the Angels, but left their flocks and went in search of the Baby Jesus.

From my storage box I take out the Angels, an eclectic assortment collected over the years. I place them near the Shepherds and their sheep. None of the Angels came with my original Nativity set, but have been gifts or former Christmas tree ornaments. They are now a special part of my Christmas tradition. Hark, the Herald Angels sing; glory to the new born King!

When we bought the Nativity in one of our first years of marriage, it came with only two wise men. A few years ago Allan surprised me with the third Wise Man as well as an Inn Keeper to upgrade my set. The Wise Men, who didn’t come to the Holy family until some time after the birth, are placed further from the stable, making their way, following the Star. I don’t have a Star in my collection; but it is always there in my mind.

I think it is interesting that the Wise men are not mentioned in the Luke 2 story of the first Christmas but are in the Matthew Gospel. Likewise, the Shepherds are not mentioned in Matthew but are in Luke’s story. Together, the two Gospels tell the story of the birth of Christ.

On Christmas Day the baby Jesus is added to the Nativity. Okay, so many years I don’t wait and have the completed Nativity throughout the Advent Season. But some years, I move the Shepherds and Wise Men closer throughout Advent and on Christmas, the birth of the Christ Child is represented by placing the manger and baby in the Nativity.

We have many traditions and holiday symbols of the season. But to me the Nativity is the most moving, the most representative of what Christmas is all about.

THANKSGIVING: FOOD, FAMILY, FOOTBALL

 

            Thanksgiving is one of those memory holidays. Whether good ones or bad ones, it’s one of those days you remember and reflect upon. When I was growing up, for example, my mother didn’t really care for turkey. Our traditional Thanksgiving dinner included dressing and mashed potatoes and other good things, but no turkey. We always had a baked hen. Hen’s can be tricky birds and one year that old hen just wouldn’t get done. Hence, one tough old hen created a Thanksgiving memory.

            In addition to giving thanks for our blessings, food, family, and football seem to be the theme of this special American holiday. I’m not a football fan, but I do like preparing the meal and having my family and friends around me. Additionally, for many in our community, feeding the hungry is also a part of their Thanksgiving tradition.

            This year, more than ever, many people have a new personal theme to this day; that of hunger.  The groups in our community who help those in need are seeing an increase in the number of folks coming to them for help. Many have never asked for help before, but loss of jobs, homes and income have brought them to the doorstep of the non-profit organizations. There is a new dilemma this year, however. The needs have increased but the numbers of people who are able to give have decreased.

            In too many homes throughout our county Thanksgiving will be just another day of too little food and too much hunger. With the donations of generous folks throughout Cobb, however, there will be food baskets filling empty pantries. In mentioning some of the groups offering help, I’m sure I will offend others who are not mentioned; just know that it is not intentional if a group is omitted. There is an abundance of generous people in our county and so many groups willing to lend their expertise and time to coordinating the donation efforts.

            One well known group that has been filling Thanksgiving baskets here for 25 years is the Center for Family Resources (formerly known as Cobb Family Resources.) If you would like to make a contribution to them or find out how to receive help, call them at 770-428-2601 or www.TheCFR.org.

            Another group of individuals who are often forgotten are those with mental health disabilities. The Cobb Community Services Board is furnishing baskets for several hundred individuals and families for Thanksgiving. To make a contribution for yourself or a group, call Mary Robeck at 770-819-9229, ext. 226. She will even come and collect your canned goods or grocery store gift cards for meats. She is also looking for folks to provide special activities and/or Christmas gifts for individuals or families or groups served by Cobb/Douglas Community Services Board. 

            C.A.M.P. in Austell is seeking donations rather than actual food. A contribution of $10 will go a long ways toward feeding a family at the holiday or throughout the year.   Their clothes closet provides approximately 12,000 gently-used clothing and household items, as well as essential items such as diapers, feminine hygiene products and school supplies. Donations can be mailed to P.O. Box 802, Austell 30168 or online at www.svcamp.org. They are located at 6289 Veterans Memorial Highway Building 12, Austell or call them at 770-819-0662.

            Last year our son and his wife, Peter and Ann-Bailey, came from Virginia to Marietta on Wednesday so they can run in the Thanksgiving Day Gobble Jog. This is a fund-raising event for MUST Ministries. They are well-known in our community for the help they provide, including food at Thanksgiving and throughout the year. For information about MUST Ministries in Smyrna call them at 770-436-9514 or check their web site at MUSTMinistries.org or for the Gobble Jog: www.gobblejog.org , or call the Gobble Jog hotline: 678-218-4521.

            On November 24 we will gather together, thankful to God for our family, our home, food to eat and fellowship with those we love. For us and for many families throughout our county and country, it has been a year of belt-tightening and budgeting, but on Thanksgiving Day we will be grateful for all of our many blessing.