Hey there, family! Grab a seat, because today we’re diving into the heart of something raw, real, and as comforting as a warm bowl of mac and cheese with candied yams on the side. Yep, you guessed it—we’re talking about a mother’s love for her sons. And yes, I'm a day late. But Happy National Son's Day to both the sistahs out there and the sons they love.
When “Supermom” Takes a Break
Picture this: A mom, juggling life like a circus performer with too many flaming torches. She’s got work deadlines, a house to keep clean, laundry to do, and a grocery list to feed 2,3,4,5 hungry boys... you know what that means. Even one can eat you out of house and home. And she's got to cook too. But in the midst of this chaos, she sometimes stumbles. Maybe she forgets to pack the lunchbox, or she’s too exhausted to play superhero when her little guy needs her most. Maybe even worse, she fails to be there to protect her precious gift when the worst of this world comes to play. It happens. And guess what? It’s not okay, but it's alright.
“But wait,” you say, “Isn’t a mom supposed to be invincible?” Well, my friend, let me tell you a secret: Supermom is a myth. She’s like Bigfoot or the Lochness Monster. Sure, all of us moms want to be her—capable of whipping up a 5-course meal while solving algebra problems and folding fitted sheets at the same time. But reality? It’s messier than 3-year-old Kwame spreading a whole jar of Vaseline on himself and the dining room table and saying, "I'm matin' a mess", like - what does it look like I'm doing?
The Art of Failing Spectacularly
Now, let’s talk about those moments when Mom’s cape gets tangled up. Maybe she loses her cool and yells when she should’ve whispered, or whispered when she should have yelled. Maybe she was trying to make peace when she should have fought like hell. Perhaps she misses a wrestling match because she got the time wrong. And oh, the guilt! It gnaws at her insides like a hungry rodent.
But here’s the thing: A mother’s love isn’t measured by perfection. It’s not a photo or Instagram filter that makes everything perfect. No, it’s more like a stubborn weed that refuses to quit. It grows through cracks in the pavement, defying storms and concrete. Even when Mom stumbles, her love keeps pushing through.
The Silent Nights and Tear-Stained Pillows
Remember those nights when Mom sat by your bed, wiping away your tears? She read you stories about stars and dreams, even when her own heart was heavy. Maybe she had her own battles—the ones she fought silently, like a ninja in the shadows. But she tried to not let you see them. Because a mother uses her love like a shield, trying to deflect pain and fear away from her precious ones.
“But what if I fail?” she wonders. Or "I am failiing", she says. “What if I mess up my kid’s life?” And in those quiet moments, she forgets that her love is the North Star—a constant, unwavering guide. It’s not about perfection; it’s about persistence.
When Sons Grow Wings
Fast-forward a few years. The little boy who clung to her apron strings now stands tall. His voice cracks, and his shoes are suddenly so big he can "Harlem shake" right out of them. He’s navigating life’s potholes, sometimes falling right in them, and Mom? She’s watching from the sidelines, heart in her throat. She’s seen his scraped knees and broken dreams. She’s cheered louder than anyone at his victories. And when he stumbles, she’s there—arms open, ready to catch him.
“But Mom, I’m a man now,” he says. “I’ve got this.” And she smiles, because she knows. Her love isn’t about holding him back; it’s about giving him wings. It’s about whispering, “Fly, my son. I’ve got your back.”
In Honor of National Son’s Day
Yesterday was National Sons Day, but I will be quietly honoring each of my son's this month. My middle son Kwame will see himself in this post. But here’s to the moms—the ones who’ve burned dinner, forgotten PTA meetings, wrestling matches, karate matches, rap performances, and maybe looked crazy in front of her son's friends. Here’s to the moms who’ve stumbled, fallen, and risen again. Your love isn’t flawless, but it’s fierce. It’s the lullaby that soothes nightmares, the band-aid on scraped knees, and the GPS that guides your sons through life’s twists and turns.
Happy National Son’s Day, Supermoms! Keep loving imperfectly, because that’s where the magic happens. God uses imperfect people to do amazing feats of love. And to all the sons out there: Hug your mom. Tell her she’s your hero. Because even when she couldn’t be her best, her love for you? It was always profound.
With, maybe a stern face but, a heart full of love,
To my sons,
Your Un-Supermom
And to my Sistahs,
Your Un-Supermom-in-arms 🖤