A mother's day to remember
As evening faded on my 3rd Mother's day, the last of the storm clouds huddled close around Pikes Peak. The mountain looked like Mt. Doom. It was fitting. I felt like a battered Frodo, clinging to something, but not quite sure what I was clinging to. It had been a rough day. Tristan started the day with a defiant rebellion that got me on my knees in Sunday service. Anastasia took a shorter afternoon nap after a loud clap of thunder woke both children and she continued to cry and fuss for a good hour after she awoke.
Our Sunday routine went much as it always does. Crazy scramble for breakfast and getting on our nicest, buckling the kids in the car at the last minute only to realize Tristan doesn't have shoes and we forgot Anastasia's pacifier in her crib upstairs. Kids crying and fighting, not wanting to go to their classes and after church the hungry whining as I roll pizza dough and clean breakfast dishes. After naptime we were off to run some errands before the start of a busy week.
I don't know why everyone makes such a big deal about Mother's day. It only makes one realize how messy and unperfect a day can be. I want to live celebrating every day. And, yes, there will be days that leave me tired and broken, but does it matter if one of those days is Mother's day? The result is the same. God is good, my children are beautiful and my husband blesses me every day in little ways. My family doesn't make holiday's special, they make the insignificant days beautiful and that's what I want to celebrate.
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PS - did T go to church without his shoes that day?? LOL!!