My thoughts on a beautiful Mother’s Day morning.
I am sitting here in an almost silent house (JR woke up about an hour and a half ago and has been playing quietly at my feet), contemplating Mother’s Day and what it has meant to me over the years.
When I was a child and the entire focus was on my mother, I found joy and a little bit of pride in this day. I have a truly amazing mom. I loved giving her my handprints, artwork, homegrown flowers in paper cups, writing her witty little poem, or making her a treat. I hope she felt loved as these small tokens graced her lap once a year. I loved standing in church with the other primary children singing to my mom and watching her smile at her little brood. Mother’s Day was great from the innocent viewpoint of a child.
Then I became a new mom and this day failed to meet the expectations that TV, facebook, and my own imagination had conjured up. I don’t think I have ever had breakfast in bed. Let’s face it, I think the last time I slept in was in 2000. Pampering is not a word in my vocabulary. Though an occasional footrub has occurred, keeping my feet up while everyone takes care of daily chores hasn’t quite happened yet. And the Sunday sermon on motherhood usually has me feeling like I am in last place on the Best Mother Award list. So why do we mothers do this to ourselves.
We set expectations that no one can meet. We feel unhappy when they aren’t met. We feel unhappy when our loved ones try to meet them, because we see their efforts but… We feel guilty about feeling unhappy. One year I banned Facebook on Mother’s Day. I didn’t want to see what someone else’s husband, or kids did for them. I didn’t want to see those other “perfect” moms feeling joy and pride in their position at the top of the “Best Mother Award” list. Nope, I chose to wallow in self-pity on the day that we have set apart to honor and celebrate the role of mothers. Wow! Really?…Really? Yes, really. It’s true. I had a stretch there when I truly HATED Mother’s Day. I look back now and feel horrible that I failed to appreciate what I had, what my family tried to do. But I don’t think I’m the only one. And so, I want to share what I did to turn this day into a day filled with peace and love instead of one of dreaded loathing.
Focus on the blessings. No matter our circumstance, we have been blessed. Focus on those blessings. It may feel artificial and Pollyanna-like but do it. My baby woke me up an hour earlier than he usually does. Why? Because it’s Mother’s Day and I am “supposed” to be sleeping in while my children bring me an elaborate breakfast on a tray. But instead of griping, I held him a little longer. Look at what I have been blessed with. Pill or not, He is mine and I love our noisy little mornings together. Instead of dwelling on that elaborate breakfast that has not yet occurred in my 14 years of motherhood. I just smiled as my two year old chose his cereal with excitement. “This one!” Yep, there is zero effort involved in putting a smile on his face. And that puts a smile on mine.
And this is how the rest of my morning will go now that I am older and wiser. I will still change diapers, I will still find shoes, I will still get eight children ready for church just like I do the other 51 Sundays of the year. BUT, I will choose to be grateful for each chore. I will smile and make fun of how such a smell can come from such cuteness. I will be grateful that we have milk for cereal, that there is warm water for my shower. Instead of picking a fight with the multiple children that were asked to empty the bathroom trashcan yesterday, I will either: Do it myself and be grateful we have a garbage service to haul it away on Wednesday. Or I will ask someone to take it out again in a nonchalant, “I just noticed it needs to be taken out” kind of way. If I can’t find church shoes (which seems to happen more often that not on Mother’s Day), we will go barefoot and be grateful for sunshine that warms our toes. I will choose joy.
That is what sets mother’s apart. We truly do have an unglamorous, 24-7, 366 day a year job. But we can find joy. Even in the marker mess on the wall or forehead. Smile. You are a Daughter of the Most High God and He has asked you to raise these, His precious children! Motherhood is not a prison sentence or a punishment because you happen to be a girl. NO. Motherhood is a gift, a blessing that will live on through the eternities. Feel the truth of that. You are raising the next generation of missionaries, moms and dads, teachers, inventors, artists, farmers, mechanics, soldiers, doctors…………….the possibilities are endless.
Find joy in the journey. Don’t waste a single Mother’s Day feeling like you or your family is not “up to snuff.” Serve them in love and find peace in your majestic calling of Mother. Smile today my sisters. Laugh at the struggles that WILL present themselves today. Cry as your child hangs onto your leg refusing to go to nursery. Embrace all that you are and all that your family sees in you. You are loved more than you could ever comprehend. So…Feel the Love, and Enjoy the Journey.
