Mama's Day

So many women hate Mothers Day.  Why is Mothers Day hard for many women?  There are some situations where I completely understand, such as women who deal with infertility or who have the desire to be a Mother but haven't had the opportunity.  That is completely understandable, and if I was in that situation I would spend Mothers Day in bed with a lot of chocolate (which is what I do anyway).  But the women who are mothers . . .why is it such a hard day?  Is it because these women feel a need to be the perfect mom, and it's a day that reminds them of their faults?  Do they have expectations they feel are not met?  Is it because they are uncomfortable with a day to honor them?  I've found this very interesting.  I get really excited to open lots of love letters from my kids, and nothing makes me happier than a homemade pencil holder or mug!

My little muffins made me feel loved and blessed on Mothers Day.  They were all super excited to give me their "gifts" after church.  I got to sit in a comfortable chair while they took turns giving me cards full of admiration and love.  What more could I ask for?  Oh, a nap.  And I got that, too.

Plus, I was pleasantly surprised the day before when Ryan purchased mulch and spread it around a large flowerbed in our yard, because he knew it would make me happy.  For me, that was more than enough to make me feel appreciated.  I am not big on getting gifts, so I wasn't expecting anything, since I'd already bought myself an item I wanted.  When I know a holiday is coming up, it helps take away the guilt when I am out shopping and find something I MUST have.  The item this time is actually a very large vinyl lettering that will go on the wall in my kitchen after I paint.  It has the word HOME written in the middle, and around the top and bottom it says, "A place of refuge from the storms of life, where all that enter therein will find peace."  It is a direct quote out of my patriarchal blessing, and I am excited to have a constant reminder of the way I want my home to feel.

In Primary on Mothers Day, we had the kids fill out some questionnaires for their Moms.  These are Lindsey and Logan's answers:

Lindsey:
I know my Mom loves me because she is nice.
The best thing my Mom does for our family is clean.
I want to be like my Mom when I grow up because she is cool.

Logan:
I know my Mom loves me because she cooks for me.
The best thing my Mom does for my family is read me a book before we go to bed.
I want to be like my Mom when I grow up because she is the best.

I had to speak in Sacrament on Mothers Day, so I was insanely nervous (more on this in another post).  Brynlie sat next to me in the van on the way to church and held my hand, since she knew I was scared.  Then she kept smiling at me while I was on the stand, and wrote me a letter that she handed me after I finished my talk.  I will save the note forever, but she wrote it with a pink pen, so it won't scan easily.  These are the words:

May 8, 2011
Dear Mommy,


Happy Mothers Day!  I love you!  Thank you for all you do!  You are very sweet to me.  You help me feel the Spirit.  You pay me for babysitting.  You buy me food, clothes, books, bags, movies, CD's and more!  Some of these things I need.  Food and clothes are important, although I might not need the brand-new cheesiest macaroni for $10.  All I need is some warm noodles.  Some food to help me live.  And you not only buy noodles, but you go buy those expensive cheesy noodles, because you are nice enough to do that.  And that is a blessing.  I love you so much!  Have a great Mothers Day!  And don't forget - you are the best mom, the best wife, the best home-schooling teacher, but most of all you are the best at showing love for everyone!


Love, Brynlie

What an awesome letter!  I was grinning from ear to ear.  And I won't even remind her that I don't buy the expensive noodles unless I have a really good coupon.

After my wonderful afternoon nap, the girls went in the backyard to play.  Ryan and I laughed when we saw them outside in dress-up clothes, burying themselves in dirt.  How's that for the perfect combination of personalities?  We then got distracted and didn't check on them for many minutes.  Suddenly we had a knock on the door.  It was one of our neighbors, who we haven't yet had the opportunity to meet.  She told us she didn't want to complain too much, but felt we needed to know that our girls had wandered into her yard, played around in her swampy river area, and started giggling when she told them they shouldn't be in there.  Why were they giggling?  Because they were stark-naked.  And urinating.  WHAT?!?

That's right.  Mothers Day ended with me sending the girls to separate corners for a loooooong time-out (after they got dressed and were forced to the neighbors house to apologize and promise to never do anything like that again).  Their answers when I asked what on earth they were thinking?  "We just had to go."

So my girls are so affectionate with me, write me love letters, play dress-up and Barbies together, bury themselves in dirt, and then urinate like they are unruly little boys.  Happy Mothers Day to me!