For me Mother's day is a love/hate relationship. I love that my sweet hubby works hard to make me breakfast in bed, my kids make cards and pick dandelions and other wildflowers and smother me in "I love you"s and kisses and hugs. Hubby is also a master at picking just the right card to make me cry and manages to find the perfect gift for me. Some years it's jewelry, some times it's a carpet cleaner or miter saw (hint, hint), but whatever he gets it's always just perfect. I know without a doubt I am loved. Who wouldn't want to celebrate that?
I guess the hate part comes in when I reflect on my idea of the kind of mother I wanted to become. The Norman Rockwell picture of warm chocolate chip cookies in a tidy house. The listening, sympathetic ear and hugging arms readily available at all times. Fun educational crafts and projects always waiting in the wings, ready at a moments notice. Infinite patience and good advice for every heart break. Knowing just what to do in any given situation. Enabling them to participate and experience every sport, every instrument, educational opportunity while still managing to find balance to play and have a carefree childhood. To have an unending source of energy, and never be "too tired". Somewhere deep inside, past all logic, my guilt says I am less of a mother than I could be, not the mother I should be, not the mother my kids need to help them reach their full potential. As Hubby and I discussed this, he told me to think of it this way... I am the perfect grandma in training. I think being a grandparent would be great! Have them when you want them and when your patience or energy runs out, or they have a dirty diaper, send them home.
I think the most amazing thing about motherhood is when you realize why the Savior asked us to be like little children. By design, they are forgiving and offer unconditional love. A child looks for reasons to smile and laugh. They choose to be happy. When I ask my girls if they are happy they always say yes. When asked why the answers are always, in my mind, small and simple things like "It's sunshiney outside" or "I'm drawing a picture" or "Cause I'm with my mom". It is only as we reach adulthood that we put on the blinders of drudgery, focusing on the "have to"s and losing sight of the "get to"s. Inately, children don't feel guilt but as a mother, sometimes I let it consume my life.
Oh, to be more childlike. To want to dance even when there isn't any music. To laugh because I can't hold it in any longer. To blow dandelion seeds without the guilt of unfinished chores. To find shapes in the clouds. To not only forgive but forget so completely. To love without judgement or expectations. And to play, to really play.
I guess the hate part comes in when I reflect on my idea of the kind of mother I wanted to become. The Norman Rockwell picture of warm chocolate chip cookies in a tidy house. The listening, sympathetic ear and hugging arms readily available at all times. Fun educational crafts and projects always waiting in the wings, ready at a moments notice. Infinite patience and good advice for every heart break. Knowing just what to do in any given situation. Enabling them to participate and experience every sport, every instrument, educational opportunity while still managing to find balance to play and have a carefree childhood. To have an unending source of energy, and never be "too tired". Somewhere deep inside, past all logic, my guilt says I am less of a mother than I could be, not the mother I should be, not the mother my kids need to help them reach their full potential. As Hubby and I discussed this, he told me to think of it this way... I am the perfect grandma in training. I think being a grandparent would be great! Have them when you want them and when your patience or energy runs out, or they have a dirty diaper, send them home.
I think the most amazing thing about motherhood is when you realize why the Savior asked us to be like little children. By design, they are forgiving and offer unconditional love. A child looks for reasons to smile and laugh. They choose to be happy. When I ask my girls if they are happy they always say yes. When asked why the answers are always, in my mind, small and simple things like "It's sunshiney outside" or "I'm drawing a picture" or "Cause I'm with my mom". It is only as we reach adulthood that we put on the blinders of drudgery, focusing on the "have to"s and losing sight of the "get to"s. Inately, children don't feel guilt but as a mother, sometimes I let it consume my life.
Oh, to be more childlike. To want to dance even when there isn't any music. To laugh because I can't hold it in any longer. To blow dandelion seeds without the guilt of unfinished chores. To find shapes in the clouds. To not only forgive but forget so completely. To love without judgement or expectations. And to play, to really play.
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