Not that it doesn’t matter

Sunday was Mother’s Day. And I really hope that everybody really did have a good day. I did for the most part, but I am at the moment by myself. Brent being at work makes me the mob, errr Greer boss of the house. Which means no time to pee in silence. No time to take a hot bath without some kid coming in with a “Mommyyyyyyy” issue. As much as I imagined my three crazy, err beautiful kids waking me up to fruit and toasted waffles I knew better. They are still kids and their minds haven’t reached the maturity level that gives them the ability to NOT be selfish. I don’t fault them for it. They are kids.

And as much as I thought wouldn’t it be grand to be with my mom or my mother in law or my sister for Mother’s Day – I knew their day was spent not much differently then mine. We are moms. We always have something to do, someone to worry about. We all sent out texts and calls and emails sharing our love and appreciation for one another, but it occurs to me how juvenile it really is.

Don’t get me wrong, it does matter to take the time to tell the mother’s in our lives how much we care. I mean. I love my mom.

my mom

Our mother daughter relationship over the past few years has gotten so much stronger. My relationship with my mother in law is unwavering. These two women have played a major part in my life and who I am. As have a lot of people. But I just see the whole “devote a day to a mom and shower her with expensive gifts” thing to be a little ass backwards. Show me a parent any parent, that does NOT worry about spending money on a gift. Because whether it’s mom, dad etc – we worry because we have bills and budgets. My kids asked me for money to buy me something and I showed them into my office. All of their craft stuff is shoved into my closet in there. I told them to MAKE me something. Flowers will die. A cake will get eaten. Jewelry will somehow get lost. But a thought, well a thought is going to stick around somehow. Or with the right water and caring the thought will grow into something much more lasting. A picture I can frame. A hug I will cherish. A kiss that is priceless.

I guess the idea that people allow themselves to have expectations for a retail holiday upsets me. I woke up that morning with zero expectations. Other than knowing my children at some point were going to argue and yell. And when they did I rewarded them with swimming in the pool and playing outside. I chose to let the day be a good day because I wasn’t going to break up a fight or plug my ears to muffle the yelling. I’m a mom and I love being appreciated, but not on a day that everyone else is expecting to be too.

My Mother’s Days are the days when Brent is home and I get to sleep in. When I don’t have to take the kids to school and pick them up. When he cooks dinner for us and wants to dance with me in the kitchen. When my kids decide to have an unselfish moment and help me fold laundry or help do chores. Those are the moments that I know I’m appreciated and that matter more than a day when they too are expected to do something.

I love all the mother’s in my life. I don’t want to have a day to tell them. I want to tell them my whole life. I want to be told my whole life. I think we should honor those we love in little moments and little things. Not just a day. Not just a flower. Our life.