Happy Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is a fascinating day. Mothers either love it or hate it. I’ve met very few who do not have at least some opinion about it.

I’m somewhere in between.

I like receiving flowers but don’t want to eat breakfast. I love handmade gifts but sometimes I think there’s a lot of pressure to enjoy the day and be happy and pretend we know we are doing a good job.

I think that’s the part moms don’t like… The wondering if we are doing a good job.

But there’s no way to know. Right now my kids are really good. Yes they drive me nuts and they fight and they leave clothes everywhere and I have driven to my husband’s office to switch cars with him and leave him the car with the kids in it because I couldn’t take it anymore, but essentially they are really good kids.

That doesn’t guarantee they won’t make questionable decisions in the future.   And if they do, that doesn’t necessarily reflect on me as a mother.

I can try my hardest to be a good mom, whatever that may be, and love them and tell them I love them, but that doesn’t mean I won’t make mistakes and they won’t make mistakes and there is no way to measure what a good mom is.

So Mother’s Day can be hard to swallow.

At the same time, the fact we have taken on the role of parent should be respected and honored. It is not an easy job and on average, we are trying as hard as we can to do our best.

We should realize what a monumental task just trying to do right by our children is.  Especially in a time where we are bombarded with messages about just what a “good” parent is.  (I have been heard saying, “She’s a Pinterest Mom” with a mixture of shock, horror, envy and even a little fear in my voice.)

But, on average, we get up and take care of our kids and muddle through the best we know how.

That deserves a nice bouquet of flowers.

Or new shoes.  Lots of new shoes.

This isn't a perfect picture, but some things are better in real life.

I already have these shoes.  So they would not be a good Mother’s Day gift.

But I’d personally prefer a non-child made breakfast. (Unless the child is a pastry genius.)

Oh. And those weird church talks. I could do without those too.

(In the interest of full disclaimer, I am fleeing this Mother’s Day.  It’s just too much this year.  And I think it’s okay when the day can be too much to take a vacation from it.  I’m taking a literal vacation and going to California with two friends for 72 hours.  It’s just 72 hours but I still feel incredibly guilty for leaving my family on Mother’s Day.  Mother’s Guilt.  We need a day to celebrate that too.)

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