A Mother's Day

As the day entitled 'Mothers' made it's presence known in well-wishes, marketing, and celebration, I couldn't help but reflect on what mothering means to me and what being a mother truly is. Yes, the reflection was in the setting of a highly hormonal, tired, and alone momma, so it was definitely swayed towards the sappy. Advanced apologies if you attempt to read...

Primarily, I was honestly overwhelmed with the sense of thankfulness. So many people make it possible for me to be a mother. I truly couldn't do it alone. We have such a network of support that surrounds us, making it possible to be in this stage of life and to enjoy motherhood. We are attempting to balance two careers along with the financial commitments of school and residency. Truly, couldn't do it alone.

We have Grandmothers who are willingly available to help out in school closures and work commitments and who never visit empty handed, helping with holidays and birthdays and every-days, and who care for Caris the way only grandma's can. Grandfathers who support us and have a special bond with lil C. Sisters/in-laws (Aunties) who love Caris like their own and are the best gift-givers, helping with babysitting and stepping in where mom needs help (primarily in keeping Caris fancy and her hair fixed). Uncles always up for fun with lil C and willing to offer an extra set of carrying arms when Daddy's aren't available. Friends walking through this stage with me, sharing mom advice and trials and planning escapes when needed. Teachers who truly love our girl and make her day great. And of course, husband/father/friend, walking beside my crazy mommy analysis, picking up pieces where needed, and actualizing our family dreams. These people are the reason I am even able to celebrate a Mother's day. Without them, I truly could not be a mother.

And then there was reflection on the Mother's Day. My third, hard to believe. The first spent in the blissful delirium of a two-week old baby. A day I remember vividly; rocking my sweet girl in the warmth of the sun in my newly gifted Adirondack rocker, savoring the newness of motherhood. The second spent with a joyful one-year old and a happy husband, lots of family, and a fancy dinner. Thrilled at what the past year of mothering brought.

This year I found to be most poignant in it's own way. A day planned to be low-key, with my girl, being her mommy. I was home alone with a two-year old in fine two-year old form. Starting off our day with promise, reading books snuggled in bed. Then quickly followed by a breakdown surrounding blackberries. And it was a kind of downhill from there. We had moments of pure mothering joy; dancing silly to loud music in the kitchen, cooking together, and snuggles on the couch. But my girl was in her own mood and mind, and the day was dictated by fits and resistance as the driving force. I spent my day 23-weeks pregnant, managing a toddler's moods, cleaning after a week gone, cooking, and preparing for house changes. We had peanut butter sandwhiches for lunch and macaroni for dinner. I faced my insecurities on gravity of parenting a strong-willed two-year old and the thought of having two littles. It was mothering. And very fitting.

I thought about my own mother, who spent her weekend driving across Texas to help her girls. Who spent a week taking care of Caris while I was gone and did chore after chore and gave gift after gift. Only to spend her Mother's Day home alone with her girls away. I thought about how mothering, at its essence, is self-sacrificing. And how that has been given and demonstrated to me throughout my life. We don't even realize growing up how much our own mother's gave us because they have given so much from day one that it embodies who they are and defines our relationship.

I thought about how beautiful the gift of self-sacrifice truly is. What a precious blessing to be given a mother's heart. Truly, something that can only be explained by a loving offering from our Creator. How a mother can have a day filled with tantrums, or teenage attitude, or newborn sleeplessness and savor each moment and cry at the thought of having to go to work the next day. How the tiny moments of silly smiles, sweet dances, little kisses, and funny quips override the moments of hitting, crying, and demanding. I am so thankful for the provision of a mother's heart.

The gift of a mother's heart is precious and I feel lately challenged to manage it responsibly. Taken in the wrong direction, context, and without guidance of God, sacrifice can turn into something unrecognizable. To nurture the gift of self-sacrifice with joy, selflessness, and love. To be pure in it's virtue and honest in the delivery. And to remain thankful that each day is a Mother's Day.