There have been some pretty funny pictures and jokes running around in light of Mother’s Day. My favorite was this one:
There seems to be this expectation of Mother’s Day. Maybe as the matriarchs of our families we traditionally plan the surprises, shop for the gifts, prepare the special meals, take the photographs and then (if you’re more on top of it than me) arrange those photos into beautiful albums to look back on. We are the memory makers. And maybe sometimes we want someone to make that memory for us…
Or remind us we are special… Or just let us sleep in for the love of all things good and right.
I must admit that I’ve been struggling with these feelings and not just in light of Mother’s Day. I’ve sometimes felt jealous that Jared can leave the house whenever he wants without worrying that the baby will wake hungry. I am often covered in spit up, my cheeks wet with slobbery kisses, runny noses, sticky jam hands and I wonder, “When do I get a break?” and “How many hours has it been since there wasn’t another body touching me?”
And while having a break, getting out with friends and being refreshed are all good and important things, I’ve been a little bothered by these things floating around in my heart because they haven’t come from a pure desire to live a healthy life. Its been about comparing and jealousy, holding on to my rights and trying to get what I “deserve”.
(Oh, I am so glad I don’t get what I deserve.)
In the lead up to this Mother’s Day I’ve been considering a lot as I am confronted with images and advertisements and funny (albeit cynical) pinterest photos appealing to this selfishness in me. What do I want? Flowers? A massage? Sleep? Time to myself? The house cleaned? That bigger car we desperately need turning up in the carport?
And I realized… what I want is my kids and their daddy.
I want to walk on the beach and stop to watch the skydivers. I want to rock my baby to sleep while I listen to my toddler giggle with his daddy. I want to remember the day each of them came into my life and celebrate their latest milestones and relish in their clever sweetness.
My Mother’s Day started early this morning when my newborn girl woke up to eat. She snuggled in close to me, and I drank the feeling of her nearness, the sound of her swallows, and the warmth of her peaceful body.
And in the stillness that can only come in those early hours of the morning I was filled with gratitude to God. “This is it,” I whispered in my heart, “Perfectly, exhaustingly it. Being a mother is the gift.”
PS – Please know that I am all for pampering mamas on mothers day and I hope you were sufficiently blessed in many ways! I just wanted to share a different and very personal perspective to add to the mix this Mother’s Day.