Ah, yes. Mother’s Day. I’m never quite sure what to do about it. I’m sort of stuck between “honor your father and mother” and recognizing that the holiday taken hostage by Hallmark is littered with emotional landmines. I was always picky about the cards I sent to my own mother; I wanted them to speak truth, which made the choices rather difficult (“always there for me” felt like a brown-nosing lie). I hope my kids know that I am here for them, even though some days I have felt like running away to The Women’s Colony. Yesterday, for example we cheered on the youngest boy at his first marching band parade, followed by an entire afternoon in the heat at the older teen’s track meet. And while I’m pretty sure that the perfect mom would know the names of her kids’ teammates, I’d just be satisfied if my kids knew that I put them first much of the time and that I honestly do think they are a priority in my life.
This year, my husband’s mother is here with us. Her presence may help to spur my sons to action — that is, they have a decent chance of remembering it and actually doing something about it. But first I’ll have to go wake them up! 😉