I WENT THRU 63 HOURS OF LABOR AND ALL I GOT WAS THESE STRETCH MARKS...NOT.

 

Aaaaah, Mother's Day.  For many, the mere words bring visions of flowers, brunches, slippers, jewelry, even the spa.  There are beautiful options for gifts to pay tribute to the sacrifices and love given by the world's mothers.  Media and big business usually count Mother's Day as one of the biggest money makers of the year.  Good for them.

 

In MY world, and MY house, Mother's Day means something different.  Mother's Day is about inspiration.  I won't make much of a suggestion about a gift, not even if asked.  Years ago, I made it very clear to my husband that between us, this was NOT a gift giving occasion.  YES, I deserve ALOT for the sacrifices I make.  But I signed on for this role because I love it.  And, while I want my children to honor my motherhood - and frankly, I want my husband to do so too - I want them to do it in the manner of THEIR choosing.  I do not want a token suggested by commercialism or subliminal pressuring on my part.  I want to see the expression of their inspiration. 

 

There is always THE breakfast.  It is fascinating.  The concoctions have changed thru the years, and each year the menu and method more closely resemble the way I cook breakfast.  This in itself is a fabulous gift.  Their attempt to duplicate MY breakfast is the sincerest form of flattery.  Behind the occasional broken dish, burned bacon, and undercooked pancakes is the "hey Mom, we like the way you cook."

 

And every year, my husband cooks out for me, my mom, his mom, my grandmother...anyone who can come to be honored in this way.  He makes me chicken, the way I like it, on the grill, and then he and the kids clean up the mess.  Meals like this are the few occasions when I am not the last served, when I don't have to prepare or clean up the meal.  Beyond these perks, there also lies the message "hey, honey, I know you always take your portion last, cook what WE want, and sprinkle on the love."

 

Most Mother's Days, I get to choose a chore outside that I want done and we all take it on together.  One year we planted an herb garden.  Another time it was the construction of a chicken coop.  This year, we just groomed my ponies, cleaned the boat, and spent time with our dogs.  I love to be outside, but many times, when the work day is done, supper is cooked and cleaned up, and all is as it should be, the darkness has settled and the day is gone and I have missed my chance.  These chore parties are my family's way of saying, "we know you always put our wants first, and don't always have time for your task list."

 

This year, there were gifts.  There always are, even though I tell them all I want is the time together.  There were the drawings done secretly at school.  The homemade cards.  Each and every single child made some heartfelt gesture.  And then there were a few unexpected surprises too.  Little things that show me I am doing something right.  My kids showed me today that they listen to me.  That I am not only their mom, but that they have paid attention to the person I am. 
     -A press on manicure.  I bite my nails.  Horribly.  It is an awful habit and it comes from
          nervousness.  Everyone around me knows it, and knows how hard I try to stop it.
          My oldest daughter knows that if I spend time and effort on my nails, I don't....well
           not as bad anyway.
     -A pitcher and a travel cup with a straw.  I have been trying so hard to lose weight and
         be healthier this year.  I have been trying to drink water more and cut out soda.  
     -A bird feeder.  When I subscribed to BIRDS AND BLOOMS earlier this year, and the
         kids asked me what I was reading, I explained that someday, I wanted to have all
         kinds of birds come to our yard so I could see them and take pictures.  And I told
         them how you have to create the appropriate habitats for all the different kinds.
     -Cinnamon Altoids.  Because they are WAY better than the peppermint ones, and I 
         am always complaining to my son because the cinnamon are harder to find.    
     -Makeup brushes.  Both my girls watch me put on my face and these sessions are
         usually instructive.  We talk about application of makeup, cleanliness, etc.  But
         it's really more about a special and REGULARLY SCHEDULED time to teach my girls
         about being a lady and being a woman. 
Silly as I may be, each of these presents were met by tears.  My kids SEE me.  They HEAR me.  My kids KNOW me.  And I am important to them, not just because I am MOM, but because they LOVE who I am.  It is not JUST the all encompassing love of a child, but the acceptance of me as a person.  What an added bonus, what a WONDERFUL affirmation of my worth.

Being a mom is so much more than a designation that settles on you when you physically give birth.  It is a choice to live your life in a different way.  A decision you make to forever after put others first, to give with no thought of reciprocation, to literally live your life for the benefit of someone else.  It is exhausting and heartbreaking.  By definition given above, it sounds insane and masochistic.  But only those who make this choice will ever know the rewards.  That when you empty yourself out so completely for someone else, it leaves not a hole, but room that is filled with joy unequaled. 

Today, there are men and women everywhere that serve in this role.  Motherhood is a calling that is rooted in the heart.  It is not defined by relationship, but by love.  No matter the circumstances, if you love, care for, and serve others, you are a mother.  And you answer a noble calling. 

After 27 months of pregnancy, 63 hours and 22 minutes of labor, 14 stitches, 3 broken bones, countless groundings, one drivers license, and 7 stretch marks, I can honestly say I am blessed and rejoicing.  And my heart is full.  HAPPY MOTHERS DAY.