Happy Mother's Day

As a baby, I loved my mom so much that I didn't even let my dad hold me without crying until I was seven months old. When I was little I thought that story was funny. Now that I have kids of my own, it is one more reason that my mom is the best of the best: love and patience, love and patience.

Today I looked through all of our old family photos, searching for pictures of me and my mom together. From the first 20 years of my life, I found four pictures of just the two of us. This picture shows the kind of mom she is: letting me explore do my thing, but always right there ready to help if I need her. I love my mom so much! 

I wrote this in my journal one night after a recent phone call with my dear mom:

Every now and then I feel like I just NEED her, you know? I may be almost thirty years old but I definitely still need my mom. It seems like over the week I get more and more battered and careworn and insecure and stressed and tired till I just need to talk with my mom. She listens to me, builds me up and soothes me and enlightens me and has faith in me. Lots of times I feel so selfish, just unloading so many trivial little cares and trifles into my mom's ear. But she always listens to them all, big and small, and she always knows just what to say. When we finally part (aka hang up), I feel bolstered and ready to face life--with its challenges, children, and messes--with renewed energy. I am so thankful for my mom and her quiet, calm strength. She is my truest kindred spirit. She is my safe place. If I ever grow up the rest of the way, I hope to be like her. 

A more recent picture, taken last year.

I'm afraid that I was not much like my patient calm mother while we were getting everyone ready for church today. The morning started out sweet, with Jeff, Jay, and Rose presenting me with breakfast in bed and handmade paper notes. Lying in bed, I heard the rustle of preparation out in the kitchen, and then Jay's voice trying to persuade Jeff to give me breakfast in bed. The conversation went like this: 

Jay: let's give her breakfast in bed too!

Jeff: I don't know if she wants to get crumbs in her bed...do you know what she wants to eat?
Jay, confidently: Yes! Toast with apple butter and orange juice!  

A few minutes later they trooped into my bedroom, Jay and Rose each carrying a note. Jeff bore a cutting board laden with a plate of apple buttered toast and a mug of orange juice. They chorused "Happy Mother's Day!" and deposited their offerings onto the bed. Rose wrote a note in her very own handwriting, so she had to translate it for me. I wish I could remember what it said exactly, but her five year old ramblings are often hard to follow. It was sweet though. 

 My breakfast and Rose's note.

This is what Jay made at school for Mother's Day. 

It says:

My mom is special to me because...SHE GIVS ME KISES

When I am with my mom, we like to...TALK

I know my mom is very smart because...SHE MAKES DINNER

My mom is good at many things. One thing she's best at is: COOKING

I know my mom loves me because...SHE MAKES ME DINNER

Clearly the way to Jay's heart is through his stomach. 

The front of Jay's school project: a vase of flowers. He said it took him three days to paint it.

The chaos didn't kick in till about 8am when it was time to look presentable and head out the door so we could take a Mother's Day picture before driving 18 minutes to church. Then everyone started ignoring the parents and it was impossible! I was growling a bit by the time all the shoes were on. 

We finally corralled the kids onto the front steps and Jeff snapped a few impossible pictures. I was feeling cranky and tired, though, not all glorious and motherly like I wanted to feel. All I want for Mother's Day every year is a picture with my kids. Maybe next year I should be more specific...like, a picture where everyone is LOOKING at the camera? Hah! 

 I was so peeved! Jeff said "kids, make Mommy smile!" And they started shouting HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY in my ear, over and over. 

Ok, I guess everyone's looking the same way in this picture, but we really need posing help.

We went to church, where the Primary kids sang "dear mother, all flowers remind me of you" and gave their moms daisies. It was quite sweet. The rest of sacrament meeting resembled a circus in our pew--some Sundays are just wigglier than others, and this was definitely one of the wiggly ones. I was exhausted by the end! A friend who was sitting behind us handed me a piece of candy after the meeting was over and said "Happy Mother's Day--you're really in the trenches right now!" He has six older kids of his own, so he knows. Part of me felt bad for maybe disrupting his church experience with our children, and part of me felt gratified that he recognized the logistical difficulties of silently communicating with three children who all simultaneously want either a piece of the same lap or an answer to a probing question. 

We went on a family walk around the neighborhood this afternoon and had some quality mother-child snuggle and story time all heaped in the rickety recliner together. What is it about reading stories to my kids that feels like redemption for previous motherly impatience? It's also just fun to snuggle up and read together. 

Then Rose and Amber did my hair...

Happy Mother's Day! I love my kids! Motherhood is supreme!

Also: MOTHER'S DAY MISSIONARY SKYPE CALL! My sister is so cool, which is not easy to pull off in 120 degree Cambodian weather. Kyle patched us all together and I'm thinking we need to do a family Skype call like this every Mother's Day, even when there's no missionary sibling in the field.