Mother's Day Blues
Hallmark has us convinced that we should have a perfect day to celebrate mom; and while mom's do deserve recognition and honor for the work that is done, I am equally convinced that there is no such perfect day. Our expectations have become unrealistic. Thank you Hallmark.
This year, for "Mother's Day", I set out to church to play some music as usual. It was lovely. There was a brief recognition with flowers the kids brought for mom and the traditional hymns to go along with them. Of course, my kids forgot the flowers, but they still joined in the celebration after borrowing some buds from kids who did remember. Following church, my husband informed me that he'd made reservations at a restaurant for brunch with him and the kids. We had to pick up one of the kids from a scouting weekend, where he white-water rafted and slept in a tent for two nights. The plan was to head right to the brunch after picking him up. I'm guessing every mom reading this has the same thought: "imagine what he smells like after a weekend of camping" -- and you would be right. He did not smell like roses.
But we headed to the restaurant anyway. As we drove, I had wanted to listen to some of my favorite tunes. Instead, I was treated to some major bickering from the back seat. Someone's ipod was invaded and needed to be reclaimed, and someone else had let a jacket touch someone else's arm, while someone else wanted to know who stole his doughnut. One comment followed another, and pretty soon, they were all shouting at each other. We arrived at the restaurant, and I seemed the only one irritated by the loud voices and disagreements. So I yelled, "PPPPLLLLEEEAAASSSSEEEE, people, it's mother's day. Can you just not bicker today?" In complete silence, with slumped shoulders, all three kids entered the restaurant. Within one minute of being seated, Gracie announced that her stomach was upset and that she did not think she could eat. Ben was tired. And Nathaniel just wanted to go home. Yes, Mother's Day at its finest. Chris insisted that we get some food, which I inhaled and then ran to the car with Gracie since she had to lay down to get rid of her now growing headache. On my way out of the restaurant, I glanced around at all the other normal families honoring their moms. Clearly, something must be wrong with me since no one is into honoring me in the same way. As we drove home in silence, I felt the disappointment creeping in.
When we got home, Gracie reminded me that she needed help finishing her speech for school that was due tomorrow AND that she wanted to rehearse it. Three and a half hours later and several tears later (hers and mine), she was finished. After emerging from the project, I found Chris hard at work in the yard and Ben sound asleep on the sofa. Nathaniel was entertaining the neighbor. Gracie wanted to go play and in a heartbeat, disappeared. So I did what I always do, and started preparing dinner, which included a homemade dessert. After dinner, we had to clean up, shower up, and get ready for the week, which included another speech dry-run, with the boys watching. I watched her big brothers smile and participate, and tell her what a great job she did. They encouraged her and my heart swelled at the love they showed to her. It wasn't such a bad day after all. Either that, or I'm just desperate to hang on to something.
The next day, I visited Gracie's classroom to set up the computer for her speech. She worked for weeks prepping for this, but was still nervously anticipating the day. She had a display board and a presentation prepared to go along with her speech. Her speech was written out on index cards with notes she had included to remind her when to go to the next slide or show the next video. She voiced concern that she might stumble over a word from her cards since she's quite aware of her reading deficiencies. But instead of stumbling over words, something amazing happened. She walked to the front of the room with the confidence of a girl who knew exactly what she was doing. She had poise, and grace, and completely owned the classroom for the next ten minutes. The kids were entertained and participated in the game-show type of speech that she gave. After she was done, there was time for "comments and compliments" and she got many very positive ones. My favorite was: "I like how you made eye contact with us the whole time - you weren't reading from your cards." She beamed! She overcame her fears and I not only got to witness it, but I was able to participate. I was so happy for her.
As I was about to leave her classroom, she said, "wait mom". She came over and gave me a big hug, whispering, "thanks mom". This was the mother's day gift I'd been waiting for. She knew she was loved and that not only was I rooting for her, but her whole family was. As mothers, we give of ourselves not for glory or for honor, but rather for love of our children. So "happy love your children" day.
This year, for "Mother's Day", I set out to church to play some music as usual. It was lovely. There was a brief recognition with flowers the kids brought for mom and the traditional hymns to go along with them. Of course, my kids forgot the flowers, but they still joined in the celebration after borrowing some buds from kids who did remember. Following church, my husband informed me that he'd made reservations at a restaurant for brunch with him and the kids. We had to pick up one of the kids from a scouting weekend, where he white-water rafted and slept in a tent for two nights. The plan was to head right to the brunch after picking him up. I'm guessing every mom reading this has the same thought: "imagine what he smells like after a weekend of camping" -- and you would be right. He did not smell like roses.
But we headed to the restaurant anyway. As we drove, I had wanted to listen to some of my favorite tunes. Instead, I was treated to some major bickering from the back seat. Someone's ipod was invaded and needed to be reclaimed, and someone else had let a jacket touch someone else's arm, while someone else wanted to know who stole his doughnut. One comment followed another, and pretty soon, they were all shouting at each other. We arrived at the restaurant, and I seemed the only one irritated by the loud voices and disagreements. So I yelled, "PPPPLLLLEEEAAASSSSEEEE, people, it's mother's day. Can you just not bicker today?" In complete silence, with slumped shoulders, all three kids entered the restaurant. Within one minute of being seated, Gracie announced that her stomach was upset and that she did not think she could eat. Ben was tired. And Nathaniel just wanted to go home. Yes, Mother's Day at its finest. Chris insisted that we get some food, which I inhaled and then ran to the car with Gracie since she had to lay down to get rid of her now growing headache. On my way out of the restaurant, I glanced around at all the other normal families honoring their moms. Clearly, something must be wrong with me since no one is into honoring me in the same way. As we drove home in silence, I felt the disappointment creeping in.
When we got home, Gracie reminded me that she needed help finishing her speech for school that was due tomorrow AND that she wanted to rehearse it. Three and a half hours later and several tears later (hers and mine), she was finished. After emerging from the project, I found Chris hard at work in the yard and Ben sound asleep on the sofa. Nathaniel was entertaining the neighbor. Gracie wanted to go play and in a heartbeat, disappeared. So I did what I always do, and started preparing dinner, which included a homemade dessert. After dinner, we had to clean up, shower up, and get ready for the week, which included another speech dry-run, with the boys watching. I watched her big brothers smile and participate, and tell her what a great job she did. They encouraged her and my heart swelled at the love they showed to her. It wasn't such a bad day after all. Either that, or I'm just desperate to hang on to something.
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| Gracie with her display board |
As I was about to leave her classroom, she said, "wait mom". She came over and gave me a big hug, whispering, "thanks mom". This was the mother's day gift I'd been waiting for. She knew she was loved and that not only was I rooting for her, but her whole family was. As mothers, we give of ourselves not for glory or for honor, but rather for love of our children. So "happy love your children" day.
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