On Being Their Mom

It's 2pm and I just got out of the shower. Seems much of my blog inspiration comes while I'm in the shower... so this is what's on my mind.

I really value Mother's Day quite highly. Selfish as I am, of course, I'm referring to the pampering I feel I am entitled to as a mom, not the pampering that my own mother quite rightly deserves. And today I was thinking about Mother's Days in general - not just yesterday, because really, yesterday was quite lovely, but thinking of Mother's Days in general, I kind of came to the conclusion that my kids are stinkers (and really I'm not saying that just because yesterday #2 gave me a rock or because #2 also gave me a card with a toilet on it that said I'm odd). Here's why they are stinkers.

When I was pregnant with #1, Mother's Day was around the corner... (Is there any more exciting time, looking forward not only to the new little one to hold in your arms, but also to join that Group, to become a Mother? You know, when Mother's Day wasn't just going to be about my mother, but from now on, it would also be about me.)

So #1 comes along... after Mother's Day. Now you can argue that I was still a mom because she was in utero but the fact is she didn't make her debut in time. She was late. She is still late, a lot of times today. (Actually, technically, she wasn't late at all, I have to admit, but early, but she was late for me.) She did, however, manage to make it in time for Father's Day. Ahem.

#2 makes his entrance the weekend of Mother's Day. I was pleased... until the charming staff at the hospital decided it would not be in my best interest to go home early that Sunday morning so I could get ready to take my newborn to church to show him off, just in time for Mother's Day... so really, what's the point of coming in time at all if you're not early enough to be shown off at church? Of course he was there on Father's Day.

#3 didn't even bother with May at all, much to my chagrin. However, of course, she did make it before Father's Day.

Stinkers. All three of them.

So if you were handing out "credits" for Mom, say... for each child physically present outside the womb for Mother's Day, and also "credits" for Dad and Father's Day... then Ro would have 2 more "credits" than me (see how liberal I'm being by allowing a credit for #2?).

And that just doesn't seem fair.

It's a good thing I guess that motherhood isn't about credits at all, huh? In fact oftentimes we don't get a lot of credit for the things we do. (Although I have to say that I am very blessed in my family to receive a lot of affirmation for being a mom, from all the members in my immediate and extended family. Lots and lots of moms out there are not so blessed.) And although at the end of the day I'm usually worn out and frazzled, tired of wiping butts and noses and spills, longing for "me" time or "me and him" time... although sometimes money is tight and we wonder how we'll be able to give them all we've dreamed of giving them... although sometimes I long for adult conversation and to watch more than The Wonder Pets on TV... I am so incredibly blessed to be a mom that it's beyond words, this feeling in my heart.

I am thankful, so thankful, for wonderful children, bright and funny and (often!) well-behaved and polite. I'm thankful for the support I have in raising them, and most of all I'm thankful that God has blessed me not only with these gifts, but with wisdom and guidance and help in raising them.

I pray that as my children grow, my role of mom will transition into one of friend, as it has with my own mom, that I'll have a close friendship with them like I do with mine. I'm excited for the future as their mother and later as their friend.

But today, I'm just thankful to be their mom... to wipe their noses and kiss their boo-boos, to pick them up from school and chauffer them to activities, to pray with them before bed and give them guidance, to clean and cook and save for them, because I know how fast they grow up and how quickly this phase in life will pass, and how before we know it we'll look back and say, "How were they ever that small?" It is a privilege, a gift.

#3 is awake now, and she's sure to need something wiped.