The Curse of Mother's Day

I should start this by saying that I can be a little high maintenance.  Yep...just a titch self-important from time to time.  Please keep that in mind as you read on...it'll help...I promise...

So Mother's Day.

The day when children fill the kitchen with the sounds of their adorable breakfast construction resourcefulness.  It's the time when normal, me-first-NO-stop-it behaviors cease to exist and these tiny angels truly DO sprout wings and sprinkle love, kindness, and sparkly JOY all over your day.

Right?

Well...I think my kids might be broken.

First of all...Texas had some "weather" yesterday.  Starting at about 6:45 am the tornado sirens went off, which meant that I had to gently nudge scream like a harridan to wake the girls to get them INTO the inner closet that serves as the best possible place in our house to weather the storm.  This did NOT set the best possible mood for the day.  Mostly because, I don't like to get up at 6:45...I don't like to see people at 6:45...or talk to them...or sit in a tiny hot room and watch them wishing they were in bed while I wished they were in bed.  It was so NOT great.

At the All Clear, I sent everyone back to bed and thought I might go myself.  Except, it was Sunday and now it was time to do all those mommy-ish things that I do...take care of our dog and a visitor dog that is staying with us...decide what's for breakfast...look at my phone...y'know, important stuff.

On Saturday, there had been some hintings that I MIGHT get my breakfast made for me.  Like I might be able to sit on my duff while other small people created something sloppy but edible for me to consume. But see...well...I'd sent them back to bed and the time that every one MUST GET READY for church was fast approaching.  How, on earth, was I supposed to remind the oldest one gently without letting her know that her little sister had let the cat out of the bag on the surprise.  Well...I texted her, of course.  Just a little,"Will you be unhappy if you forget that it's Mother's Day before I wake you for church?" should do the trick.

Except, they didn't come skipping down the stairs...AT.ALL.

I put Teddy the Wicked and his compatriot away and headed off to shower and get ready for the day.  I peeked out right before my  shower...then right after my shower...then I made my bed instead of putting on my make up.  Still nothing, no kids.

It was time to wake them up...so off I went..."Heeeelllooo my dahlings,"

Now I was at a loss...did I make breakfast? (I was starving.)  Did I tell them to eat cereal?  Did I just leave it and finish getting ready KNOWING that if they had forgotten I was setting up a rough ride to church when that one kid who always forgets to eat realized that she forgot to eat and started up the crying.  Also, I was a little irritated.  Where were my little angels with food?  HUH?  Did't I deserve food once in a while?  Where were my super intelligent, super descriptive children rising up and calling me blessed all while feeding me and scouring the kitchen to honor me?

Well THEN, the very worst thing happened.  All this weather knocked the power out at my church so that services had to be cancelled.

When the children heard...there were actual tears. It took a long time to convince one of them that church was ALLOWED to be cancelled.  Clearly something had gone super wrong with the universe if we couldn't go to our favorite place, and it was probably my fault because I had borne the terrible news.

It all would have been heart warming...except I was STARVING...and they were making me PARENT...On MOTHER'S DAY!

In time, as it usually does, all crying ceased.  I did eventually eat food that they prepared for me (even though it sounded like they were hosting Thunder Dome while they prepared it...I tried not to parent), and I got a present that I love very much and I even got to sit and watch a movie with my girls all around me.  But the day...whew!  Was I glad that was over.  It was one of those days that you look back on in the clear light of day and find yourself ashamed.

Ashamed that there were any expectations whatsoever on a given Sunday in May.  Ashamed that I wasn't the joyful mom that I really want to be with my kids and that I lost that chance on this Mother's day.  Ashamed that in all of the silly drama I didn't end up calling my own mom.

The Curse of Mother's Day for me was the weird expectation.  My kids are amazing and they bless me in so many ways every single day.  I seriously don't know how I would survive without them holding me, praying with me, making me laugh and yes, sometimes, feeding me...especially ice cream...my kids love to feed me ice cream.

In the dawn light the morning AFTER Mother's Day, I remembered that I GET to be their mother and I am beyond grateful.  Every day, I get to wake up and play with these mostly delightful creatures who call me Mom.  I get to hold them.  I get to argue with them. I get to encourage them.  I get to walk in the world with them all around me, surrounding me, making me a better person than I ever could have been all by myself.

This time is fleeting.  Bean turned 16 last week, Bear is 12, Monkey-Face is about to be 10, and I am 44.  How many more days do I get to be their mom?  I don't know, but I do know that I want to treasure every one of them whether they are a certain day in May or not.

Praying that you all had a wonderful Mother's Day...now I've really gotta go call my mom!

See ya around...