Friday, May 10, 2013

Gifts on the Day of Mothers

Ahh, the underappreciated and overworked mother; deity of the dirty diaper crowd, superwoman of supper, lioness of the laundry room. The woman who loves you best and toils 24 hours a day, 7 days a week to make sure that noses are wiped, homework is done, and that the fruit of her loins turns out to be the most fantastic, spiritual, amazing adults that the world has ever seen.

She pulls off this miracle by sacrificing sleep, self-indulgence, and sometimes sanity amid the well-noted lack of accolades from the outside world and many times her family. This is why mothers get seriously out of sorts if her husband or children forget that one day in May when everyone is required to give her some much deserved recognition.

Just ask my hubby Buns what happens if even once you forget the sacred Day of Mothers. Your sweet companion will turn into something that resembles an angry Al Pacino with flames shooting out of the top of his head, and like an elephant Pacino never forgets.

Since that fateful Sunday all those years ago Buns has showered me with many an adorable card and beautiful bouquet of flowers. I also have a drawer in my bedroom that houses a growing pile of cherished macaroni art, cards with childish endearments scribbled on them, and glittery pictures given in love from my four offspring. One year I even got tickets to a Josh Groban concert (which was swoon worthy) but with all of these great things none of them are the best gifts I’ve received in appreciation of my motherly efforts.

Here is a list of the very best gifts I’ve ever gotten.
  • Dandelions picked with care from the back yard
  • Watching my newly ordained sons pass the sacrament for the first time
  • Witnessing the first vocal prayer of a little one kneeling next to me
  • Having my teenage son read to me when I was too sick to do it myself
  • Laughing hysterically at the joke “why did the chicken cross the playground?” (to get to the other slide) as told by a seven-year-old girl for the 17th time
  • Receiving an answer to a fervent prayer for the healing of a critically ill child
  • Joy in water fights, kite flying, and shooting gingerbread houses with slingshots
  • The smell of a new baby snuggled safely in my arms
  • Being able to tell bedtime stories to a captivated audience every night
  • Sticky kisses
  • Gospel discussions with teens who blow me away with their understanding
  • A feeling of pride when one of my kids stands up to injustice
  • Burnt toast made by a budding chef
  • Warm Christmas mornings together
  • Having my cheeks grabbed by a five-year-old who then tells  me in his most serious voice that “I wuv you mom”

The thing is that regardless of how much we mothers are ignored, unappreciated, and overlooked by the world at large, and even if our family has become complacent, there is One who appreciates us every single day for the hard work we put in. He recognizes our imperfect efforts, He sees the sacrifices, and rewards us openly and in exponentially greater amounts than the energy we put in.

He never waits for one Sunday in May to make known how much He loves, trusts, and sees us. His gifts are poured out day-by-day and minute-by-minute if only we have the eyes to see them.  So as much as I adore the cards, words of appreciation, and the pansies I’ll get in Sacrament Meeting on Sunday, my favorite gift  is the love of my Savior and the privilege He has given me of being a mom. 

Happy Mother’s Day!


What gifts has God given you?


  1. As much as I liked this post, I was especially thankful for your testimony at the end about how the Savior notices our efforts, even when the rest of the world (and family, ahem,) is completely clueless. lately it's been such a struggle to push through the day, doing things that no one cares about unless I don't do them, which suddenly turns it into the biggest Greek tragedy ever: "Mom, I don't have any underwear, and Derek took the last pair, I'm going to have to impale myself on my own sword now!" Well, maybe not that big of a tragedy, but still. You get my point. But whining about it just makes me feel like a whiner, strangely enough, so I"m wondering if I'm developing some sort of a martyr complex, where it's so much more satisfying to suffer in silence, because then I can dwell on how much I'm doing for others, and they just aren't perceptive enough to notice, so that makes me this amazing giver. Does that even make sense? I've been caged up with 50 4th graders for the last 5 hours, so if I seem a little befuddled, blame them.

    I guess my point is, thanks for putting it all into perspective. The reason I do all these things is so my kids feel loved, my home is comfortable, and my family wants to be here around me. That in and of itself is a reward, if I stop and think about it. So who cares that no one says "Thanks for the clean undies", or "This meal is fairly palatable, mom", or whatever. My kids' happiness really is more important than my own, most of the time, and if I can open my eyes to the Savior's blessings for my efforts, minuscule though they are at times, I will feel more validated than if I'm constantly harping on people to notice what I do. Thanks for this.

    1. At this point I'm just thankful my boys actually want to put on clean underwear, it used to be a herculean task just to get them to change every day. I know, that is gross. You my dear a fabulous mom, wife and friend and plethoras of other awesome titles. I've been in the martyr state myself, it gets easier in some ways as they grow up and start being more self sufficient, but then you find yourself longing to hang onto them longer as missions loom and you know nothing will ever be the same. I suppose it is all a times and seasons issue. Wonderful and difficult things in each phase, just different wonderful/difficult. Love you.


Comments are the bee's knees! Thanks for sharing.

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