I’ll begin by saying this Mother’s Day post is a VERY belated one because… well… I am a mother. I’d like to think that’s the only explanation or excuse needed here!
Truth be told, I sat down countless times over the last few weeks to attempt to write something sentimental and profound in honor of all of you awesome moms out there. Instead, I wound up with some disjointed thoughts, a wastebasket full of wadded papers (actually, a bunch of deleted Word docs), and a couple of pathetic haiku (which I might post at some point just for the hell of it). Oh yeah, and I also wound up with an infinite number of instances during which I was distracted by fixing lunch, rushing to daycare drop off, coordinating naptimes, saying yet another prayer that I can finally convince Gray to give up her pacifier, kissing boo-boos, cleaning spit up, or wiping a baby bottom. But that’s the life of a mommy, right? And… drumroll, please… isn’t every day technically “Mother’s Day” when you look at it from that perspective?
I’m not going to pretend Mother’s Day is a totally useless holiday. It’s nice to have one day a year when people (namely your husband and kids) are socially encouraged to extend their heartfelt appreciation for all you do. A little validation never hurt anyone, am I right? And let’s be honest– some spouses and children need a little guidance in that department. Or a lot of it. To be fair, we mommies often go without a ton of recognition for the selfless service we give on a daily basis, so a day of spirited acknowledgment tends to feed the soul. But selfless service is the high standard that we mommies are called to, isn’t it? It comes with the territory and it is, by definition, what it means to be a mom.
With that said, I came to realize something new this year– Mother’s Day isn’t just a not-so-subtle reminder for our loved ones; it’s a not-so-subtle reminder for us moms too. It isn’t simply about being honored by those who call you “Mommy,” it’s about remembering to honor being a mommy. Because sometimes that gets lost in the shuffle of being a full-time chef, nurse, housekeeper, schedule-maker, activity-director, homework-checker, perpetual chauffeur, breastfeeding station, hug-dispenser, and problem-solver extraordinaire.
My Mother’s Day was especially touching this year—not because of any wrapped packages, but because it stirred my sentimentality in a way I’ve not experienced before. (Mind you, I’ve only celebrated two Mother’s Days prior to this, so… bear with me. I’m still a newbie.) That isn’t to imply that I’m looking a gift horse in the mouth; I’m thoroughly grateful for the beautiful morning my husband helped my daughters to orchestrate. (For a three-year-old, Gray has some seriously good taste in present picking!) But beyond the roses, the hand drawn heart card, and the thoughtfully chosen keepsakes, were two little girls that looked up at me with immeasurable love and devotion in their eyes. And that was my favorite gift of all. Talk about the sincerest form of flattery! It made me feel like Superwoman, and I’m blessed that I get to see that look every day in one form or another. I know, I know… wait until they’re teenagers, right? Nonetheless, I spent my Mother’s Day cuddling on the couch with my family, and it was the perfect way to spend the afternoon. None of us got out of our pajamas and none of us wanted to. I whiled away the hours reveling in my mommyhood and thinking about how lucky I am that God chose me to parent these stunning, wonderful, strong-willed, inspiring little girls. Every day with them is a blessing.
Now, I’m not going to pretend there aren’t moments of sheer insanity and chaos that make me momentarily forget to appreciate my motherhood. Sometimes I feel like I might have inadvertently joined Barnum & Bailey Circus somewhere along the way. There are times when I fail to see past my delirium from an untold number of sleepless nights, and sometimes Gray’s look of admiration is hard to recognize through the temper tantrums that erupt over important things like: my failure to remove the crust from a piece of breakfast toast and my inability to immediately beam us to Disneyland (I’m so technologically incompetent!). But all of a sudden I’ll catch a glimpse of it… hiding in a smirk, an unexpected “I love you,” or a kiss goodnight. It subtly creeps in, and it melts my heart each and every time.
I hope, in the course of your hectic routine, you are able to enjoy every day for what it is–Mother’s Day. Because sometimes we all need a reminder that being a mom is, in and of itself, the reward.
Until next time… Peace, Love, and Dirty Diapers,
Jenna von Oy
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