Sweaty... I Mean Sweety

 Pittsburgh  Vintage Car Races with Four Children Six and Under- Summer, 1988

“I love my mom. My mom is so sweat to me.”

My oldest child wrote me these words in her best little girl penmanship 26 or so years ago. Though her spelling was a bit off, I understood what she meant and remember marveling at her spontaneous expression of love to me - a mother far less deserving of devotion than her note would indicate.

I was not always a sweet mommy.

I do, however, remember being a sweaty mommy.

I sweated my way through motherhood thinking I, alone, was responsible for all things child related. I sweated over the foods they ate (or didn’t), the developmental timelines they kept (er… or didn’t), their doctors, their friends, their schooling. How did they look? Did they make me look good? 

I sweated too much and prayed too little, and if I could have one mulligan - one thing to go back and change, it would be that.

There have been many other notes through the years including four received just yesterday. Kind and affirming, they speak of their love and admiration for me - a sweaty woman who now just wishes she had been as sweet a mother as their notes say I was.