Like a bride on her wedding day—I got caught up on what the perfect Mothers Day should be instead of what it was. I was very focused on what I was not getting for Mothers Day. Scott slept in. He and the kids did not make breakfast and then Scott went off to give blood leaving me alone with 3 children to get ready for church. I was mad! It was evident that there would not be a reprieve from cooking or any of the chores that makes a day ordinary. By the time I got to church, the bitterness of being underappreciated was reaching deep into my soul.. As I just hinted at, the perfect Mother’s Day for me meant escaping the responsibility of child rearing for the entire day, and obviously that was not going to happen. But the feelings of wanting to spend Mother’s Day without my kids & family added an extra layer of guilt to my already consuming bitterness. I was almost so over consumed in self pity that I almost missed the wonderment of the day. There were extraordinary things that were happening all around me that my bitterness was blocking. Scott had given me a blackberry for Mothers Day to help me organize my life, a gift that I had been pinning after for a great many months. Also, he actually was going off to give his donation of blood in my name—a very thoughtful gift to say the least. To not be out done, Zefram’s school had done a luncheon for all the mothers in his class. They had read little bios about each mother which the kids had come up with. Mine started out this way. “This mother loves all the colors of the rainbow. She loves wearing church clothes, making walkie talkies. I like it when she makes me green eggs and ham” (which is something that I do every St. Patrick’s Day for the kids). Alex stepped up to the plate by writing a litany of verses that started out with “my Mom dot, dot, dot.” He filled the template in with “My mom can cook. My Mom can paint. “My Mom can sword fight”. That one really made me laugh, although it is true. “My mom is Love.” Wow! It does not get much better then that. Later on, I spotted Alex coming up the road with Ms. Mary; she is the 80 year old woman that lives next door. Mrs. Mary was pushing Alex’s bike and Alex had 3 huge alabaster stones clutched to his breast. He had found the stones in one of the neighbor’s yards and had asked them if he could bring them home for his Mom. Clearly I was not under appreciated. My family loved me and I needed to see the love from the place they were giving it.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Mothers Day Madness
Like a bride on her wedding day—I got caught up on what the perfect Mothers Day should be instead of what it was. I was very focused on what I was not getting for Mothers Day. Scott slept in. He and the kids did not make breakfast and then Scott went off to give blood leaving me alone with 3 children to get ready for church. I was mad! It was evident that there would not be a reprieve from cooking or any of the chores that makes a day ordinary. By the time I got to church, the bitterness of being underappreciated was reaching deep into my soul.. As I just hinted at, the perfect Mother’s Day for me meant escaping the responsibility of child rearing for the entire day, and obviously that was not going to happen. But the feelings of wanting to spend Mother’s Day without my kids & family added an extra layer of guilt to my already consuming bitterness. I was almost so over consumed in self pity that I almost missed the wonderment of the day. There were extraordinary things that were happening all around me that my bitterness was blocking. Scott had given me a blackberry for Mothers Day to help me organize my life, a gift that I had been pinning after for a great many months. Also, he actually was going off to give his donation of blood in my name—a very thoughtful gift to say the least. To not be out done, Zefram’s school had done a luncheon for all the mothers in his class. They had read little bios about each mother which the kids had come up with. Mine started out this way. “This mother loves all the colors of the rainbow. She loves wearing church clothes, making walkie talkies. I like it when she makes me green eggs and ham” (which is something that I do every St. Patrick’s Day for the kids). Alex stepped up to the plate by writing a litany of verses that started out with “my Mom dot, dot, dot.” He filled the template in with “My mom can cook. My Mom can paint. “My Mom can sword fight”. That one really made me laugh, although it is true. “My mom is Love.” Wow! It does not get much better then that. Later on, I spotted Alex coming up the road with Ms. Mary; she is the 80 year old woman that lives next door. Mrs. Mary was pushing Alex’s bike and Alex had 3 huge alabaster stones clutched to his breast. He had found the stones in one of the neighbor’s yards and had asked them if he could bring them home for his Mom. Clearly I was not under appreciated. My family loved me and I needed to see the love from the place they were giving it.
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Zefram's bio for you was adorable as well as Alexander's fantastic Mom poem. You are like a super hero mom! You can cook, paint AND sword fight! ;)
ReplyDeleteI have to say, getting a blackberry you've been pining for is WAY better than having someone do the dishes or make you breakfast. (Altho, next year maybe they can do BOTH!)
<3