Not for the faint of heart!
I’ve always thought Mother’s Day isn’t long
enough. A day when children and husbands show appreciation
for the long hours, being underpaid, little rest, and
stretch marks. Somewhere in the years of raising children
and selective insanity we remember who we are and why we
were chosen for this noble profession. Someone said God
couldn’t be everywhere so He made “mothers”.
I remember during a routine ob visit with baby
#7 the doctor looked up from his architectural dig and
asked if I’d found my niche yet? Humorously actually I
had to grasp the table as not to fall off from laughing. I
answered, “I don’t know doc. This motherhood thing is
kinda sticking with me.” Five children later and a
menagerie of trials and tribulations, joys and
celebrations, we’ve made it to another mother’s day.
The runny eggs and pancakes in bed, the hand picked rose
and vase, the ho-made cards and wrapped fragrances are
Now that we’ve championed the teenage years, I
sympathize and my heart goes out to those mothers who are
experiencing a difficult mother’s day as their children
are grown, gone, or they may be separated at this time.
Don’t give up! You’re not alone. There are others that
are trying to make this day meaningful so do it by
planting love. You do make a difference in your child’s
life, though it feels like hugging a porcupine.
Motherhood hasn’t come easy. If I had a dollar
for every time I threatened to resign from the
“Crucible” of mothering I’d be wealthy. Motherhood
is humbling, just when we think we’re all that and a bag
of chips. Children teach us to giggle; to jump, skip, and
attempt a cartwheel. Sometimes we get so busy training and
instructing, keeping everyone on track, and remembering to
pick this one up that we feel like an air-traffic
controller. Pace yourselves. That’s when Lamaze
breathing could be beneficial. Children help us remember
simple joys in life: the sun on our faces, the grass
beneath our toes. We find ourselves in our children.
What’s important is how we loved them, which
determines how they love others. If I had a quarter for
every time the thought to open a window and toss one out
came to me as they threw a temper–tantrum in the
checkout lane, I could take an expensive vacation. That
wouldn’t involve going into labor and resting overnight
at the hospital. But if I had a nickel for every time I
kissed a cheek or sweet baby feet, wiped a tear, or every
time a little smile carried me through the day; or my
heart has pounded and I caught my breath over my love for
them, then perhaps the whole world couldn’t hold the
riches I’d have. “For where your treasure is, there
your heart will be also.” Thank you Lord for unexpected
blessings. The smallest often become the greatest
Happy Mother’s Day!