** This was written last Mother's Day...but pretty much sums up again how I feel this year so I thought it bore repeating.**
Oh, the pressure. I really just wish sometimes we didn't have holidays built around these things.
Because...how really am I supposed to adequately thank my mom for all she has been in my life?
And...how really am I supposed to thank my mother in law for all she means to me?
And...how really can I adequately communicate to my adopted mother in law how grateful I am for her influence in my life?
A card? Some flowers? A phone call?
Yeah. Didn't think so.
And so I don't. And then I feel like a slacker.
And since I am several hours and states away from being able to actually visit any of my mom's...the pressure just intensifies. Not from them mind you. No. Remember, they are all amazing and wouldn't ever put unnecessary pressure on me. The pressure comes because I want them to know just how much I love them. And a day built up around telling them how much you love them creates a lot of pressure.
And then I feel for Jeremiah. Mother's Day always falls on a Sunday. Which, for a pastor...kinda sucks. I know he'd like to do the whole breakfast in bed thing...but he has to be gone before I even open my eyes on Sunday mornings.
And lets be honest...my kids are still too young to even (really) get the whole Mother's Day concept. So my mind builds up unrealistic expectations of a whole day filled with no fighting and happy hearts and homemade cards. Which are, of course, dashed upon the rocks before breakfast is over.
So I choose today to let my husband off the hook. After all, he does an AMAZING job the other 364 days out of the year for making me feel appreciated. And my children are a blessing...based on their position of just being my children. Not because of something extra they did for me today.
And I make a mental notation for me to be more intentional about communicating to all my special moms just how incredible they are to me...all throughout the year.
Not just on this designated day.
**And this one was written way back in 2010. Geesh, what a different place I was in then.**
I thought of the title of Emaye (Amharic for Mother) that I hold for Eli right now - a role I only fulfill on paper. I long for (and am scared to death of) the day when I will be his Momma. In the flesh.
I thought of Eli's birthmom. His first mom. I know next to nothing about her - and what I do know doesn't tell me any of the questions I truly want answered. Yet, I will forever be inexplicably tied to this woman through our son.
I longed for the little girl I only got the privilege to mother for four short months. I was surprised and completely caught off guard with the strength of my sadness for her, felt fresh today.
I thought on my own role as mom to Ella and Ezra. No other role in my life (perhaps, other than wife) has shown me the depths of my capacity for selfishness. The task of mothering little ones is exhausting and draining...and exhilarating and fulfilling...somehow all at the same time. I realize how completely dependent I am on my Father's guidance to do this. How utterly incapable I am of getting this right in my own capacities.
I thought of the three incredible moms I have been blessed with. Truly, my cup overflows when I consider the ways these women have loved and poured their best into me. I share so much more than just genetics and family history with these women and I count them as friends.