Sweet as Pie: A Mother's Love

Sweet as Pie: A Mother’s Love




Anyone familiar with my family knows I am a big fan of Kathleen. I may have mentioned it once or twice. Occasionally, someone who doesn’t know my wife will ask me why I talk about her the way I do. Once or twice I have given them a blog post I wrote about her called “Sweet as Pie.” It sums up pretty well who she is.


Or at least it used to.


It talks about the fight we went through to get our little family, but it was written right after Danny was born. So basically, it misses all of the reasons I am still Kathleen’s biggest fan.

And I’m not alone.




Kathleen is Magic. Yes, magic exists. It doesn’t exist in the ridiculousness of robes and sticks, or frog parts and pewter cookware. But it is real and potent. It exists. You see, Mothers can be magic.

They can heal people and things. Repair books with spell-o-tape and keep stuffies fit to protect and follow their children in mysterious ways. Mothers can heal skinned knees and broken hearts with nothing but kisses and songs and their command of time.

They can make the busyness of the day disappear, vanishing tears from eyes and turning sass into learning and gratitude (or at least into serious doubt as to the efficacy of sassiness).

They also have the power to see things on planes of existence hidden from most mortals. They can sense pain and vulnerability, and instead of securing their position with awful power, they open themselves--sharing the hurt and sadness and knitting the strands of their heart with their awesome power.




Kathleen walks through this world, a citizen of this world, but also of the ancient, truer world. She has a mission to accomplish. It is a call she bled and cried and stretched to receive. A call she feared would never come. And so it is a call she holds in the deepest part of her being. She has never forgotten her days wandering in the desert, and she never will. Some who read this may be in the desert still, and we will never try to shake that dust off of our feet. It is far too precious to us. We love the wanderers--the Mothers to be, and the Mothers not to be--for they are vital to our family, full-fledged members of our fellowship. Not the Boromirs--they are the Samwises. There could never be hope without them.





As with any good story of Magic, there is a lingering curse--powerful and patient. Kathleen’s power will always be linked to the curse. The curse desires all Mothers to fight each other, and themselves. The Curse tells them they ought to be doing better; that a real Mother would know how. The Curse drains their energy and time, pitting Mother against Mother, and heart against heart. The Curse is a shadow chaser, hoping to distract each Mother, diluting the potency of her Magic.

It catalyses the guilts and the doubts and the humanity, weaponizing the shadows into a substance of unnatural reality. You feel guilty because you should be so much more. Look at how patient that Mother is. That Mother wouldn’t get frustrated so easily. That Mother had the energy to clean up and help in their class and read to them. Hot lunch again? I don’t remember your Mother being too tired to make you lunch. Isn’t feeding your children part of the basics? Even bad Mothers manage that…

The Curse’s power relies on mixing things of today with things of tomorrow. The Curse puts Mothers in a War of Time. You have an hour and you want to rest? Oh, okay. You could fold some laundry, but go ahead and take a nap. Did you call for that dentist appointment? That’s fine; these teeth fall out eventually anyway. Go and take that nap. The Curse needs Mothers to compare today with every yesterday. It manipulates statistics and facts more seamlessly than any propaganda machine. It uses the imperfections of mortality as proof of its central goal--to do anything it can to keep Mothers from using their magic and from growing into their abilities. It uses anxiety and depression and self-perception and trauma. It wants every page to seem like the entire story.



I have watched this beautiful Mother grow, overcoming wave after wave of the Curse’s best efforts, and she is Magic indeed. Danny came, and she saw him with a depth I still fail to emulate.




She loved and protected and taught him. She was already pregnant with Grace when I wrote the Sweet as Pie post. She kept building her Magic even as she was nauseated and sore and working. She practiced as I spent night after night prepping for nursing school. I was already a big fan, but she was beginning to make me nervous--how much ahead of me could she get before realizing I was nodding my head and smiling because I had no idea how she was doing all of it?




Grace brought us a daughter, and the Curse, now stronger, decided this was a perfect time to suggest Grace would emulate all of Kathleen’s weaknesses and see none of her strengths. You are her model of Womanhood, so don’t make any more mistakes...ever. But her Magic was stronger, too. And Grace now is apprenticed to one of her heroes. She has learned to love her brothers, her derpy Dad, and her Mother, and the other Mothers who are drawn to her spirit and strength. She’s with one of them right now…




James burst into our family and hearts. He is all fire and guts. An unstoppable force, anchored deep to Kathleen’s gravity--like a pasty, smiling comet. I started nursing school before he could lift his own head, and Kathleen’s Magic somehow made the time I spent trapped at schools and hospitals fly by, and my absence less deflating to our little loves.





I watched as the spells and incantations she once struggled to produce, fly from her touch and tongue like a symphony--too many moving parts to take in without letting go and just experiencing the feeling of a Masterpiece.




The four and a half years since Jamie’s arrival has built the awe and appreciation I have for Mothers in general, and Kathleen in specific, to a depth I struggle to express.

I feel the strength of the Fellowship of which she is a full-fledged member. I am loved and taught by those who at first glance seem to be prodigies of love and strength; however, I now know better. I feel the hours and moments of frustration and doubt, guilt and fear they have dedicated to their Magic. I am blessed and fed by it daily.

And when Kathleen told me we were going to add one more heart to our clan, I knew he would add to the crazy and the strength and the beauty of our story.




Teddy decided to enter the story in his own way. All of our labors since Danny were boring, so why not mix it up? Why not start labor one day, and then stop for dinner? Teddy looked disappointed when we told him Danny had decided to come sunny-side up too. So he decided to see what Coombs positive would look like. He came out hungrier than a month old piglet, and quite a bit cuter--which is harder than it first sounds.

We felt the love and strength of the entire Fellowship as we were given time to meet and love our newest soul. They loved our...energetic children--enlivened even more by Christmas and vacation and the arrival of a new brother. They loved my brother, who has come to fill a spot as one of my closest friends, and they prayed for us and gave and gave and gave. They have made this time a sacred one, filled with the touch of the other, more eternal world.


And I have been once again proven how little I actually know. I didn’t think it was possible increase in my love for Kathleen so much in such a small amount of time, but I have.

I spend more time in awe of her Magic than any other person in this world--I delight in studying her ability to love. But friends, I had no idea. I don’t know how long it may take for me to understand the mastery I have seen over the past three days; I don’t know if I ever will, but I can’t wait to try. She has been the purest version of Kathleen I have ever seen--fighting through every trick the Curse vainly attempted to sling her way.



She has been invincible.







For all the worries and troubles the world is facing, know that people like Kathleen haven’t given up. They are fighting, and they are bringing up hearts and souls saturated with their mastery of love and kindness and hope. They are fighting, and I pity any force attempting to stand in their way.


They are fighting.


They are real.

And they are Magic.