Back in May I was not up to writing a post about Mother's Day. It wasn't because I didn't get celebrated or spoiled that day. It wasn't because I didn't have pictures to add. Honestly, I really did NOT like being a mom during the month of May. It made me sad to read all the posts about mothers who loved being moms, or gushed about how great their kids were, or talked about how they wouldn't have wanted to do anything else. I sure felt awful, and guilty, reading those posts. I
wanted to feel that way. But I wasn't feeling it then.
Now that May is over (oh, and I guess June is too!), and I'm feeling a lot better about being a mom, I decided to combine Mother's and Father's Day into one post.
Eric always wants me to feel special and will do little things for me that make all the difference in my day. For Mother's Day he insisted that they make me a special treat. It was delicious, as well as beautiful, and the kids loved helping him make it.
Eric had me take a nap in the afternoon while he and the kids wrote me cards. I loved receiving them.
I think the highlight for me, though, was picking up the kids from school on the Friday before and having them be SO excited to give me their Mother's Day gifts right then. We walked in the door, and the kids sat on the kitchen floor while I opened their gifts. That was the best.
Thinking about the responsibilities of motherhood, and being in the thick of potty training, round two, I've been reflecting on an experience I had about two years ago:
It was Sunday morning, our first hour of Church. Mierae had been wearing underwear for a while now, and we were pretty good about making sure she went to the bathroom often, so as not to risk an accident. We were sitting with Mierae's best friend and her parents, so the girls were having a good time, and the last thing on Mierae's mind was leaving the fun to go to the bathroom. But all of a sudden, she looked up at me and said, "Mommy, I have to go potty!" or in other words, "I'm going to wet my pants right now!" I grabbed her, threw her on my hip, and tried my best to squeeze out of the pew, but before I even made it to the aisle, the damage was done. She was wet; I was wet. And I had to teach the third hour lesson. And being the ever-prepared Mommy that I am, she had a change of clothes; I did not. And we lived 30 minutes away. Eric came out and took care of Mierae while I stuck a plastic bag across my lap and the seat of the car and drove as fast as I could back home, washed and changed clothes, and came right back to Church in the nick of time to teach my lesson.
I shared this story when I went visiting teaching a little while after that, and my companion's positive response was: "I think that is what being a mother is all about!"
Uh, should I be sorry to say that was NOT
my first thought?!
If this is what being a mother is all about, COUNT ME OUT!
But as I've had two years to think about this experience, and recently several months to dread its repetition, I am learning a lot more about what being a mother is all about. I'm sure most would say, if you haven't had this experience, you aren't a true mom! (My sister shared her own version of this story a few months after my experience!) I'm finally coming to terms with the fact that the hard times only make the good ones better. And even though I would rather have the easy road with my kids, I'm learning to expect the unexpected and try to live life as best I can as it comes at me.
Last month I went to the temple one evening while Eric put the kids to bed alone. It was wonderful to be out, away from the kids for a little while, and to just sit and relax and ponder about things in my life. As I sat in the temple, I had an overwhelming feeling of love: love that God has for me, and that I have for my kids. It was so special to me to have that strong impression, especially after a very hard month. I needed to feel that unconditional love for my kids and have that time away to really put things back into perspective and count my blessings. Even though motherhood has been HARD, especially lately, I'm thankful that Heavenly Father has entrusted me with some of his spirits. I'm not perfect, and I make way more than my share of mistakes, but my kids are mine. And I'm grateful that I have them.
For Father's Day for Eric, the kids wrote him cards in the morning before Church when he was gone at meetings. They brought them to Church so they could give them to him as soon as we saw him.
After Church, when Eric was home teaching, I made a pizza dinner and followed the theme for dessert with a fruit pizza.
We went for a walk after eating, and enjoyed the unhurried time to just be together.
When I married Eric, I knew he was already good with kids. I'm sure that's something every girl looks for in her future husband. What I didn't know then was how dedicated and affectionate and loving he would be with our own kids. He misses more sleep than I do these days getting up with the kids (in the middle of the night and in the morning). He makes sure to do lots of active playing with them whenever he gets the chance. He never gives up when they are frustrating him, even if he has to take a small break. I love seeing my kids with their dad, and I love that he makes time to be with them and do special things with them. Even right now as I type, he is upstairs with the girls pretend-playing with their dolls and toys. It takes a real man to do that. I'm sure head-over-heels for this guy.
Eric had me take a nap in the afternoon while he and the kids wrote me cards. I loved receiving them.
I think the highlight for me, though, was picking up the kids from school on the Friday before and having them be SO excited to give me their Mother's Day gifts right then. We walked in the door, and the kids sat on the kitchen floor while I opened their gifts. That was the best.
Thinking about the responsibilities of motherhood, and being in the thick of potty training, round two, I've been reflecting on an experience I had about two years ago:
It was Sunday morning, our first hour of Church. Mierae had been wearing underwear for a while now, and we were pretty good about making sure she went to the bathroom often, so as not to risk an accident. We were sitting with Mierae's best friend and her parents, so the girls were having a good time, and the last thing on Mierae's mind was leaving the fun to go to the bathroom. But all of a sudden, she looked up at me and said, "Mommy, I have to go potty!" or in other words, "I'm going to wet my pants right now!" I grabbed her, threw her on my hip, and tried my best to squeeze out of the pew, but before I even made it to the aisle, the damage was done. She was wet; I was wet. And I had to teach the third hour lesson. And being the ever-prepared Mommy that I am, she had a change of clothes; I did not. And we lived 30 minutes away. Eric came out and took care of Mierae while I stuck a plastic bag across my lap and the seat of the car and drove as fast as I could back home, washed and changed clothes, and came right back to Church in the nick of time to teach my lesson.
I shared this story when I went visiting teaching a little while after that, and my companion's positive response was: "I think that is what being a mother is all about!"
Uh, should I be sorry to say that was NOT my first thought?!
If this is what being a mother is all about, COUNT ME OUT!
But as I've had two years to think about this experience, and recently several months to dread its repetition, I am learning a lot more about what being a mother is all about. I'm sure most would say, if you haven't had this experience, you aren't a true mom! (My sister shared her own version of this story a few months after my experience!) I'm finally coming to terms with the fact that the hard times only make the good ones better. And even though I would rather have the easy road with my kids, I'm learning to expect the unexpected and try to live life as best I can as it comes at me.
Last month I went to the temple one evening while Eric put the kids to bed alone. It was wonderful to be out, away from the kids for a little while, and to just sit and relax and ponder about things in my life. As I sat in the temple, I had an overwhelming feeling of love: love that God has for me, and that I have for my kids. It was so special to me to have that strong impression, especially after a very hard month. I needed to feel that unconditional love for my kids and have that time away to really put things back into perspective and count my blessings. Even though motherhood has been HARD, especially lately, I'm thankful that Heavenly Father has entrusted me with some of his spirits. I'm not perfect, and I make way more than my share of mistakes, but my kids are mine. And I'm grateful that I have them.
For Father's Day for Eric, the kids wrote him cards in the morning before Church when he was gone at meetings. They brought them to Church so they could give them to him as soon as we saw him.
After Church, when Eric was home teaching, I made a pizza dinner and followed the theme for dessert with a fruit pizza.
We went for a walk after eating, and enjoyed the unhurried time to just be together.
When I married Eric, I knew he was already good with kids. I'm sure that's something every girl looks for in her future husband. What I didn't know then was how dedicated and affectionate and loving he would be with our own kids. He misses more sleep than I do these days getting up with the kids (in the middle of the night and in the morning). He makes sure to do lots of active playing with them whenever he gets the chance. He never gives up when they are frustrating him, even if he has to take a small break. I love seeing my kids with their dad, and I love that he makes time to be with them and do special things with them. Even right now as I type, he is upstairs with the girls pretend-playing with their dolls and toys. It takes a real man to do that. I'm sure head-over-heels for this guy.
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