Mother's Day has always been special to me because my birthday is so close to it. My own mom was still recovering in the hospital on Mother's Day the year I was born. Sometimes my birthday falls on the actual holiday and sometimes like this year it's a few days after. But it always felt like Mother's Day was a special day made just for me and my mom.
After having my own girls, the day has changed a bit. I have a SUPER husband who cooks, helps clean and takes our daughters EVERYWHERE with him when he is home. Like in the garage, on the mower, to the grill.. The poor guy can't get away. So while everyday at our house is like Mother's Day, the actual DAY I don't have to feel guilty that I am not helping him. I am just going to sit back and relax. (which if you know me SO isn't going to happen LOL)
This year my mom doesn't have to work so we invited my entire family over to our house for a BBQ. I wonder if my husband knows I don't plan on cooking AT ALL though ;) I am so fortunate to still have my mom around and hope it's a great day for her with all of us around her.
I do think we Mother's should be appreciated more than one day a year though! To think of all we do. Especially since I stay home with our girls.. It's what I do. Yes I do make jewelry but I do so to stay home with them. My heart and soul is in my children and I wouldn't be a mother without them.
Thanks mom for being MY MOM
and
thanks Kinzley and Kenna for allowing me the honor of getting to be your mommy!
Happy Mother's Day to all Moms out there!
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This is for the mothers who have sat upall night with sick toddlers in their arms,
wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer
wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying,
"It's okay honey, Mommy's here."
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies
who can't be comforted.
This is for all the mothers who show up at
work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains
on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and
make cookies and sew Halloween costumes.
And all the mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to
babies they'll never see. And the mothers
who took those babies and gave them homes.
This is for the mothers whose priceless art
collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at
football or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their
cars. And that when their kids asked, "Did you see me, Mom?" they could
say, "Of course, I wouldn't
have missed it for the world," and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store
and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice
cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead,
but realize how child abuse happens.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with
their children and explained all about making
babies. And for all the (grand)mothers who
wanted to, but just couldn't find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go
hungry, so their children can eat.
For all the mothers who read "Goodnight,
Moon" twice a night for a year. And then
read it again, "Just one more time."
This is for all the mothers who taught
their children to tie their shoelaces before
they started school. And for all the mothers
who opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons
to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little
voice calls "Mom?"
in a crowd, even though they know their
own offspring are at home -- or even away
at college -- or have their own families.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids
to school with stomach aches, assuring them
they'd be just FINE once they got there, only
to get calls from the school nurse an hour later
asking them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone
astray, who can't find the words to reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they
bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of
recent school shootings, and the mothers
of those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of
their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school,
safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their
children to be peaceful, and now pray
they come home safely from a war.
What makes a good mother anyway?
Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips?
The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and
sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?
Or is it in her heart?
Is it the ache she feels when she
watches her son or daughter disappear
down the street, walking to school alone
for the very first time?
The jolt that takes her from sleep to
dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put
her hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again
at 2 A.M. when she just wants to hear
their key in the door and know they
are safe again in her home?
Or the need to flee from wherever she is
and hug her child when she hears news
of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are
universal and so our thoughts are for
young mothers stumbling through diaper
changes and sleep deprivation...
And for mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.
Single mothers and married mothers.
Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all. For all of us...
Hang in there. In the end we can
only do the best we can. Tell them
every day that we love them. And pray
and never stop being a mother...
