Mother's Day

I spent a lot of time this year contemplating what my Mother's Day might look like and trying not to be disappointed that it may not live up to my standards.  Alternating between these thoughts and feeling guilty for these thoughts.  Feeling as though, if asked what my perfect Mother's Day would entail, I'd be expected to answer something most definitely involving my beloved children and husband.  Those three wonderful beings that I see and take care of... every... single... day. "Could I even make something up?" I thought.  Because surely no one wants to hear the truth.  It seems too brutally honest.  Who wouldn't judge me for wanting a day that doesn't involve my husband and children.  A fantasy where I escape to a hotel room... alone... where no one is demanding my attention and I have even just a few hours to do whatever I want.  A few hours not to feel guilty if what I'm doing doesn't involve cleaning, cooking, listening, punishing, touching, wanting, needing.  Where feeling stretched to my limits just doesn't exist because for a few moments I hear nothing and get to take care of me.  But even typing this, I cry.  Because while it sounds so heavenly amazing, I know that if it ever came to fruition I would realistically spend that time thinking about, praying, and thanking God for the three beautiful creatures whose existence defines the mother I am.  So instead of wishing for a day that only exists in a daydream, I'll tell you how my perfect Mother's Day actually did play out...

My husband and children crowned me "queen" for the day and donned their very own homemade paper crowns as well, as they congregated in the kitchen to make me breakfast.  After church and a quick Costco run I was treated to a much needed cup of coffee at Starbucks.  Joe cleaned my barbecue despite my telling him that I was only kidding when I threatened to withhold grilling until he helped me clean the darn thing (I'm ashamed to admit that it hadn't been done in over 2 years... the poor grill was a MESS!) I took a nap while Joe went kayaking, we had an easy dinner that didn't involve me cooking, and Joe ended the day presenting me with a "work in progress" gift he was making that still needed some work (a wooden chalkboard sign with a sweet saying about children that brought me to tears.) Then I rocked my sweet baby to sleep.  Just because I can.  And when she sighed that sweet "giving in to sleep" sigh and her body got heavy in my arms, I cried.  I cried for  wishing my Mother's Day could have been anything other than what it was.  I cried overcome with SO MUCH love for my husband who tried so hard to make that day about me.  I cried for the children God gave me who, despite my feelings of failure, think I am the best mom they ever could have asked for.  And I cried for the baby in my arms who I wouldn't be able to rock to sleep forever.  I cried because even the worst of days are worth it for the good ones.