lite & lucid

If you’re anything like me, you have an ideal Mother’s Day in mind. And if you’re anything like me, you have yet to experience one. Mother’s Day with little ones is….well, hard. And we expect it to be different than every other day. But it just isn’t.

In your ideal Mother’s Day, your babies have slept all night allowing you to do the same. Your husband gets up with the kids in the morning, so you can sleep in, then they all bring you breakfast in bed. As you enjoy your 3 course gourmet breakfast with your hilariously cute family, you’re eyes well up with tears of joy for this precious moment. Then you head off to church in subtly coordinating outfits that make you look like a happy matchy family from a Target commercial. You exchange knowing smiles with other moms throughout the day as your children, who are on their best behavior, are showing off your incredible parenting skills. You get the perfect family picture that says “Everyone, come see how awesome I am in all my momness!”. The offspring are all smiles and happy the whole day, no one fights, no one throws a fit, no one makes any messes.

In real life Mother’s Day, you’ve gotten up with someone in the middle of the night to soothe fussy teethers or calm down toddlers from nightmares. Your husband gets up with the kids in the morning but you lie in bed listening to the little voices you love so dearly continually ask and cry for you. So you grudgingly get up a few minutes later, both tired and needed. You end up making breakfast and your three-year-old tells you something like, “Gross. If I eat that, it make me siiiiick”, and the baby throws it all on the floor. Your eyes fill with tears of frustration as you crawl around on your hands and knees retrieving your rejected meal. By the time you get to church, you’ve lost your temper at least once and broken several commandments. As you get the kids out of the car you realize your 4-year-old’s pants are on backwards and your 3-year-old slipped past both you and your husband without shoes. You exchange exhaustedly knowing glances with other moms throughout the day who look just as distressed as you are. The kids are fighting, grumpy, whiney and, in all honesty, a little annoying. You suppress the urge to shout out “Whose kids are these?” every time they misbehave and resort to talking through your teeth and constantly snapping your fingers to illustrate that you mean business. When your 2-year-old throws a temper in the middle of the restaurant, you want to lay down right next to her and throw one too, because this is supposed to be your day for Pete’s sake! You give up in the middle of trying to take a family picture because one kid is crying, one kid refuses to turn around and face the camera and you realize you don’t really want to remember this moment so why bother documenting it.

I think it’s time for us to stop putting Mother’s Day on a pedestal, lower our expectations a little and acknowledge that we’re moms of little ones. Mother’s Day for me will be just like every other day as a mom. It’s not a perfect snapshot, not a benchmark to judge ourselves by how well our kids behave and definitely not a day to be endlessly pampered. At least not yet. You don’t get to relax because you are so badly needed and that’s okay because the very people that need you are the ones that gave you the title to celebrate Mother’s Day. So we roll up our sleeves, wipe the spit up off our shirt and change the diapers, fix bottles, do dishes, clean up the spilt milk and move around the laundry. We have to realize that when our children are very small they don’t have the skill set to make you feel like a queen or pamper you on Mother’s Day. Because they need us. They need us to nurse them, kiss the boo boos, sweep up the peas they spilled, wipe their noses, snuggle them when they get up from a nap and discipline them when they test the limits of their boundaries. In a few years, when they’re older and more independent, I know this day will be easier. The relief of being needed a little less, I’m sure, will soon give way to the fact that one day I won’t be needed at all. Perhaps that future Mother’s Day, when we’re getting pampered, we will long for the day when we were needed….though remembering the hell that was my last Mother’s Day I seriously doubt it.

So until that day all you mamas of little ones, I’m offering you encouragement through the most trying of Mother’s Days. You’re doing a good job. Even on those days you’re sure you’re failing. If I saw you in the thick of things, I’d fill up you’re coffee, give you a pep talk and a good high five as you rush off to save the cat from your toddler….or go change your 10,000th diaper, or pull your kid off the counter….again. I know you feel defeated and worn down but there’s something you need to know. You’re stronger than you think and they love you more than you know. This Mother’s Day, you get to be a mom.