Mother's Day Ruminations

I knew going into the day that it just wasn't going to be about me. The fact that both boys' soccer games from two weeks ago had to be rescheduled for Mother's Day because of snow made that clear. I was ready for that, though. I pictured nice Spring skies and pleasant children...

The kids were horribly cranky yesterday. To ensure my idealist Mother's Day, I made sure they were in bed by 7 p.m. I felt glorious when five minutes later they had all snoozed off. Despite my best efforts, they still woke up with the crabbies this morning, whining and bickering resonating within every room they entered. I have to admit that my voice rose amidst their cacophony a couple times, but didn't seem to slow their driving beat.

Soccer game one came amidst a drizzle of rain and soggy fields...cold. Following a hard kick to the chest it took all of mommy's convincing and the promise of a lollipop back at home to convince Nate to get himself back out on the field to help out his team-mates who were already playing short one player. We made a quick stop at my parents to wish my Mom a happy day, and then headed to soccer game two. The sun poked through twice during the game, making my hopes rise for a change in the direction of the day. Come on, I'll settle with half an ideal day!!

Not to be so. The game was lost, the clouds gathered back to steal the sun away...and with it my dreams. Just as the clouds regrouped, so did the crabby attitudes of my children. By the time my dear husband presented dinner, I just wanted to sneak away and escape, feeling bitter and dejected that yet again, there is no day to rest. No day to gain sanity and peace, restoration in the heart of a mother.

After dinner and with much complaining, I sat myself down with my oldest son to read. You see, he'd waited until the end of the quarter to finish up his required reading for school. At this point, I'm frustrated, tireed and really just want a bath and to go to bed. But, the day's gone anyway, so why not just sacrifice the rest of it. So, we hunker down on the couch and I read to him, then he reads to me, and then my turn again. Before I know it, we're laughing together. He snuggles in to me as we read and looks at me with the all the love an 8-year old boy has in his heart for his mother and says, "Mom, this is the perfect Mother's Day." In that moment, I realize it is exactly that and am profoundly grateful.