Feeling Loved All Year Long - The Best Mother's Day Gift

Do you remember your very first Mother's Day? I sure do! I'll never forget feeling as though I had become a member of a club, a part of a grand group of people who were being celebrated for an entire day, a day filled with honor and recognition. Special doesn't even begin to describe how I felt!  For the past 13 years, Steve and the boys have showered me with cards and little gifts to show their appreciation for me, and I genuinely look forward to their sweet gestures with each approaching Mother's Day.

{The photographer snapped 9 posed pics, but true to form, we could not manage one with all eyes open!  Oh, well, they're cute with eyes closed, anyway, aren't they??}

Over the past few years, however, my personal perspective on Mother's Day has shifted significantly.  It is no longer a celebration that is about me, but rather one that is an opportunity for me to examine more deeply the gifts and graces of being called into the vocation of motherhood, and through that examination to be ever more grateful to God for the gift of my children.

As I was visiting with Steve's mom about our plans for Mother's Day, I simply told her that we had no plans at all.  We had been so busy working on the garage sale, school projects, cleaning up the yard and closets and carpets in preparation for baby, the topic of Mother's Day never entered into our conversations.  

"You know," I said, "If we don't do anything at all, I really am okay with that, because, the truth is, I feel loved all year long."

Really, that feeling loved statement isn't rooted at all in what the boys do for me or what they give to me in the way of material goods, it's simply a personal awareness that I have of their daily presence in my life.  

When I slow down during the day and notice the boy who:

- enthusiastically calls my name because he can't wait to show me what he's made

- climbs on my lap because it's the best place in the world to perch, even if only for a moment

- fills his cheeks with a warm bite of baking, because he's been waiting all afternoon to be nourished

- hugs me goodnight, every single night, because he thinks of me before heading to bed

- wants to sit on my hip while I cruise around the kitchen, because watching me cook is better than playing with his toys

- rescues me, pregnant round, struggling to wipe up messes from the floor by gently taking taking the cloth from my hand

- changes a diaper, washes the muddy feet of a younger brother, or reads quietly so that I can rest, I FEEL LOVED.

It's up to me to see our children loving me through who they are every day, to feel God loving me as well in the the ordinary days of being a mom  It's up to me to see the extraordinary in it all, to savor it and to let it be the very sustenance that fuels me through the more difficult times, the times when I'm tempted to believe that life is a little too hard, the times when I feel outnumbered in a household full of boys, when I long to have a little girl with whom I can relate to, enjoy girlie projects and adventures with, or when I wonder in my bouts of loneliness why in the world God chose me to be the mother of boys.

Last Saturday, after packing up the remnants from the garage sale, Steve and the boys came over to help load up the donations. When we finally came home, I was really tired, but had mentally prepared myself for the reality that after a crazy week, I had left the house that morning in a state of utter disaster. While nothing sounded more delightful than a quiet nap, I knew it just wasn't possible and that it was time to answer the call to clean.

The moment I walked in the door, I knew instantly that something was different.  The stale smell of dirty dishes and sticky floors had disappeared.  The carpets were no longer covered with toys and games, with shoes carelessly scattered about, and the bits of laundry that failed to get folded, hanging all week long off of furniture here and there, had disappeared.  Everything, I mean ev-e-ry-thing was neat and tidy.  My eyes nearly popped out of my head with wonder!

For a split second, there was complete silence.  All eyes were on me, waiting anxiously to see if I would notice their gift - a Saturday morning spent, not golfing or watching cartoons but scrubbing down a house that needed so badly to be bathed. And, they did it for me, just for me! Oh, how they know my heart! I wish I had a picture of their sweet faces the very second they saw me burst into tears of joy.  Filled with sheer delight, I couldn't stop proclaiming over and over, "Thank you, oh, thank you, it's just so beautiful!!" Their smiles were HUGE!! Through their happy little eyes, I could see straight into their souls - they knew they had done something truly wonderful for me, and they were proud of themselves.

I have been working so hard over the past year on teaching the boys the value of the gift of generosity.  Of course, they are boys and because they are also children, they struggle to exercise the virtue of generosity with one another.  "That's not mine, so I'm not going to pick it up." or "I had it first, so it's mine." I hear those words all day long. Many of you moms know, as I do, that generosity is giving without counting the cost, and that daily call to give never ends when you're a mother. But, at the same time, there's a special joy that can be experienced in the practice of generosity, especially the sacrificial kind. It truly can be so deeply rewarding.  I want the boys to experience that joy, and I think they may have tasted it for themselves in shining up the house for me last weekend.

On Sunday,  I was ordered to put my feet up while the chefs prepared brunch.  It was just lovely! Wanting to keep everything a surprise, I was sent to my room, so as not to know exactly what was going on in the kitchen.  I got so tickled, though, at how each boy (including dad) took turns knocking on the door, needing to ask me a questions about how long to cook the bacon, or what kind of flour to use in the pancakes. 

Henry, who has recently learned how to make an egg in the microwave, thoughtfully prepared this scrumptious appetizer for me:

He was so proud of himself! He loves to circle the block on his bike each day, picking blooming weeds along the way to bring home just for me.  From his vast travels, he must have known exactly where to go to find the purple one in the picture!  Complete sweetness!! Those were the best eggs I'd ever eaten!

 "Mom, it's ready!!" they sang out over the clanging in the kitchen.  I came out to find each one of them standing around a table they had so proudly set, complete with linens, flowers and fresh coffee.

The cards on my plate were such a gift.  They know how much I love written notes.  I've saved every single sweet thing they've ever composed for me.  Steve must have taken the boys card shopping earlier in the week.  Each of their selections had glitter, ribbons or jewels on them, which was just so precious.

Because they are boys and are so very young, I don't expect them to write very much.  The little one-liners are just perfect.  But, this year, I was really touched by Ben's card.  His thoughtfulness meant the world to me! Inside the card read:

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

Thank you for being the best mother in the world. 

Thank you for being gentle and sweet and helping me with homework, doing the laundry, and cooking those spectacular meals for us boys.

I hope you have a blessed Mother's Day!

Love, Ben

Do you have a special Mother's Day memory you would like to share??

I would love to hear it! 

Please feel free to write about in the comments!