Every time I demonstrate my superhuman ability to remain patient and calm in the midst of one of my kids’ shit-storm meltdowns of whining, complaining, crying, or general pain-in-the-assing, my husband tells me I’m Mother Teresa. In case you’re wondering, I’m not. Mother Teresa died in 1997, and anyway, she’s a lot shorter than me. I always just shake my head and mutter like a lunatic when my husband gives me this label, because he says it right as I’m about to blow my lid, and now I can’t blow my lid because then he won’t think I’m like Mother Teresa anymore. Damn him.
Lid-blowing tendencies or not, it must be said that in many ways, I do bear uncanny resemblances to MT. In fact, ALL mothers do. I’m over-exaggerating you say? Likening mothers to someone who’s nominated for sainthood is sacrilege you say? Are you calling me a heathen? If you knew my history, you’d know those are fightin’ words, and let’s not go there because I really hate violence (snorts in hysterical laughter). No, but seriously, here’s a better question. Do you even HAVE a mother? If so, then you should already see the following comparisons.
7. Mother Teresa tended to the sick. Mothers are the sole caregivers, whether there is a father living in the same household or not, when one or all of their kids are sick. They are puked on, shit on, coughed on, drooled on, and cried on while dragging their unreasonable little sickos to the doctor, entertaining them whilst spending an infuriatingly long purgatory in the germ-infested waiting room, sitting on their squirming bodies when they fight to near death against getting a strep or any other kind of test, cart their miserable asses on over to the drug store where the kids make a sudden recovery and start going ape-shit in the toy aisle as the prescriptions are being prepared at a snail’s pace, and then, back at home, beg, plead, negotiate, bribe, and finally force the medicine down the sick child’s gullet to get him better ASAP. (By the way, that last part is called HEALING the sick. I don’t think MT has that one on her resume. BOOM, shawty)!
6. Mother Teresa fed the hungry. Mothers feed the hungry every 2 to 3 HOURS, and many of them produce the food from their very own unwieldy and leaky teats. Even beyond breastfeeding, Moms with older kids are required to serve them food on this very same demanding schedule. If it’s been 2 hours since breakfast, and the resident emaciated, ravenous 7-year-old doesn’t have a school of Goldfish in his snapping, salivating jaws, the apocalypse with its Four Hungry Horsemen will trample the pantry.
5. Mother Teresa took a vow of celibacy when she became a nun. Mothers take a vow of celibacy after they shoot a baby out of their hoo-ha. (Oh? You’re 10 cm dilated? Sweet! Well, FYI, you’re about to push a THIRTY-FIVE CENTIMETER HUMAN HEAD out of your vagina! To channel Austin Powers: Does that make you horny, baby? DOES IT)? Even after the six weeks of doctor-mandated abstinence, mothers stick loyally to their vow of celibacy, which is unofficially called I’m Too Tired From Being Pawed At By This Needy-Ass Kid All Day, So Get Your Damn Hands Off Me, You Sex-Crazed Caveman.
4. Mother Teresa gave all she had to the Needy. Please refer to #7, 6, and 5.
3. Mother Teresa helped to clothe the naked. Mothers have been diapering and clothing naked baby butts since the dawn of time. And come to think of it, there’s an awful lot of intentional streaking that goes on, way after infancy, possibly into the teenage years, requiring mothers to chase their children around with swaddling clothes, jock straps, or other modest garments meant to cover unsightly asses or genitalia.
2. Mother Teresa protected the children of Calcutta. If you mess with a mother’s children, she will CalCUTya.
1. Mother Teresa sacrificed her feminine vanity by becoming a nun. Mothers sacrifice their vanity as soon as a baby starts turning their body into an alien host. Furthermore, they spend the first year of the baby’s life in yoga pants or PJs, and forget about taking the time to apply make-up, because even if they had the energy, their new 2 ½ foot tall boss isn’t gonna let them take a 5-minute beautification break. “Where do you think YOU’RE goin,’ Mama?! Where? To the bathroom to apply some Maybelline Great Lash Mascara? Aww, HAIL naw – get your ass back here and make me some damn Goldfish!”