Happy Mother's Day to Me...

Let's face it. Mother's Day is one of those holidays (like Valentine's or Birthdays) where there are just big expectations. Everyone has some sense of how these holidays ought to go. And, fundamentally, this vision involves a lot of pampering.

For me, all I wanted for Mother's Day was smooth morning where we actually made it to church on time and a nap in the afternoon.

This morning I did get to sleep in and awoke to the sound of someone scurrying about the kitchen to make me breakfast. But, the circumstances were far less than idyllic.

I had overslept (after having been up for about two hours during the night with Mia, who has had miserable allergies lately). Meaning, I was running VERY late for church. And, Mia was the one making me breakfast -- all on her own.

She was cooking me waffles. She had awakened and gone downstairs and when she saw that Jeffrey had not prepared breakfast for me prior to leaving for his early meeting, she figured he had forgotten that it was Mother's Day, and she took it on herself to remedy the situation.

First, she found my cookbook. Since, she could not find a waffle recipe, she used one for swedish pancakes instead. She also escorted Elsie Jane quietly downstairs and turned on a movie for her (which she later informed me she knew was not usually allowed on Sunday mornings, but she wanted to be certain I could sleep in). She then commenced cooking.

I did not witness the process. I was forbidden from coming downstairs once I awoke. But, from what I can tell, besides the fact that she used a recipe for the wrong item, floured the waffle iron, mixed the batter with the dough hook on my kitchenaid -- which never fully combined the ingredients -- spilled the batter, and let Maggie into the eggs (resulting in one being broken all over the floor), she did pretty darn well for her first attempt at independent cooking. The end result looked like waffles, just not quite the right consistency. And, the bite I had did not taste bad.

In the middle of her cooking efforts she came upstairs to get a little clarification on how to use the waffle iron. I tried to gently hint at the fact that what I really wanted for Mother's Day was to get to church on time. But, the look of determination and sincerity on my daughter's face stopped me. I resolved that we were going to be late, and Mia made me breakfast.

The girls did not want to attempt eating Mia's waffles. They poured themselves Lucky Charms instead. And, spilled them all over the floor too. Then, Elsie Jane dumped her whole bowl, including the milk, all over the floor.

Round two of cereal, occurred after wiping up the milk and as I was trying to run around upstairs and make beds and tidy up, since I never know if by chance someone may come to look at our house, and while I highly doubted it would happen this morning (which it did not) I have enough fear that it may that I can't leave a mess. I came down to another mess of cereal and milk from Elsie Jane and Maggie deciding to move their bowls from the counter to the little table.

Once the floors had been scrubbed, again, and the counters cleaned up, I got everyone dressed and fixed everyone's hair. Mia selected a dress for me to coordinate with a flower she had made me for my hair as a gift. So, I put on the dress she selected and clipped the matching flowers into her hair and mine. At the last moment I went to change Elsie Jane into her dress for church.

I ripped off her pull-up (which is almost always dry) and discovered poop all over her. I restrained her with one arm as she kicked and tried to run away while Maggie ran for supplies. After I cleaned her up and got her dressed, I washed the dishes, loaded the dishwasher, and scrubbed up all of the waffle mess. I tidied the main floor and gathered my papers ready to leave for church.

It was just as I turned around to grab the kids and load the car I discovered that Elsie Jane had gotten into my make up and drawn all over her face with black eyeliner. There was a significant amount of screaming while I washed her face and questioned her as to where she had used the eyeliner besides her face, to which she said, "Bathroom." I then instructed Mia to load everyone in the car while I checked the upstairs to ensure that Elsie Jane's artistic efforts had not extended to any furniture or walls. Thanks heavens, they had not. I ran downstairs, checked things once more, grabbed a protein bar and a glass of water and got in the car to enjoy my Mother's Day breakfast on the way to the church.

We were only an hour late, and we had left the house very clean. Everyone was happy. And, my morning was NOTHING like what I would have wanted or expected. But, my morning was full of all that it really takes to be a mom.

The truth is, motherhood has nothing to do with being pampered. Motherhood is hard work. The hardest I have ever done. And, it is not hard just because it involves cooking or cleaning or dealing with the unexpected. It is hard because it involves constant self-sacrifice, patience, and love. It involves giving up what you want for the interests of another.

This morning as I was running around thinking about how far off my morning was from what I would have wanted, reconciling myself to the fact that we were just going to be late, and realizing that I could be frustrated about that or fine with it, I reflected on the attributes that motherhood is teaching me to develop.

Lately, I feel like I fall so short of all I hope to be as a mother. But, despite my short-comings, my commitment to motherhood keeps me constantly striving to be better, to improve. And, ultimately, I know that it is because of my efforts in motherhood that I will grow in my ability to suffer long, be kind, seek not my own, not be puffed up or behave unseemly, not be easily provoked, bear all things, and endure all things. I can think of no circumstance in which I can more fully develop charity than being a mom.

Today, I am just grateful that I get to be a mother. Not a perfect mother. Not to perfect kids. But, I think that motherhood may be as much about the imperfections as it is about the idyllic. Motherhood is about the messes and the craziness and the exhaustion and the constant reaching deep into your soul for a greater capacity to love unconditionally.

And, sometimes, there are precious days when it all goes smoothly and everyone gets along and things run on time and the house is clean and the children obey and everyone is happy. And, sometimes that day is Mother's Day.

But, most mother's days look a lot like mine did this morning.

And, yet, they are no less glorious.

Because, in the end, I did get to sleep in. And, my sweet, thoughtful daughter made me breakfast.

And, I even got to take a nap.