A Summer Birthday Party

My mother's side of the family is large and rambling.  While common genetic roots have a role in our unity, there are other players involved.  To explain exactly how and why a person is considered family can be confusing and tedious.  The subject is sometimes broached when all other topics have been exhausted, and conversation is starting to wane; but most of the time, cousins are cousins whether they are first cousins, second cousins once-removed, cousins through marriage, or even just the child of our mother's sister's oldest and dearest friend.  The same goes for aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews.  Grandparents are called by their given pet names (Nana, Pop-pop, etc.), whether or not they are your parents' parents.  

During the winter, family meetings are scattered and brief; but the during the summer months, the island swarms with relatives of all kinds.  

At the end of June, I brought my children to the twelfth birthday party of cousin Ollie.  It was a pool party.  Even with my mother there to help, wrangling my three little men, and keeping them alive and safe, proved nearly unmanageable. It was a moment in which motherhood dragged me along behind her, tearing my ego to shreds, and humbled me to accept help from older and wiser mothers.   I felt sure that everyone present was sighing to herself, thinking that I was foolish and unprepared for the demands of parenting; far too irresponsible, and overly entitled.  I couldn't make eye contact with anyone.  Instead, I begged their forgiveness and gratitude while blushing, and pushed screaming infants into the arms of various aunts and cousins as I dashed after Tristan, who seemed intent on death by drowning. 

On the way home, Tristan smiled at me.

His smile made me smile, and in one swift movement, my perspective changed, and my heart lightened. Tristan had had a wonderful time. Cameron and Jaime had nestled in loving arms of cousins and aunts, while my firstborn and I swam in circles for over an hour.  My cousins and their children had laughed and played, and enjoyed hotdogs, hamburgers, and Hoodsie cups.  Everyone may have been critiquing my parenting skills, but they probably weren't; even if they were, their thoughts were born from love, and the day was full of joy.  

It wasn't my finest moment as a parent, but luckily, my goal is not to be the best parent in the world.  My goal is to raise compassionate, humble, and happy children.  With the help of my family, I may have a chance of achieving it.