A Grateful Mother.

Mother's day-
"Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from Him."
Psalm 127:3

We had a really nice day yesterday. So glad the rain stayed away for most of it! No stress... other than that whole "Nathan locked our keys in the car at church" fiasco, but that only lasted 45 minutes or so, no big deal :) After that, we went to mom's and grilled out for lunch. The kids played on the swing set, tried out the kite, whacked a few plastic golf balls, and secretly threw as many things in the hot tub as they could when they thought no one was looking. From there, we went to celebrate with Nonie and Meme for a yummy dinner and more outside playing. They love the ride-on toys and playing with all the cousins. We got home too late to do whatever Nathan and the kids have planned for my Mother's Day, the kids were filthy and worn out! All three fell asleep in the car on the way home.

All day yesterday, my sweet husband kept trying to dote on me and make me feel special. He does that, mostly, because he knows I spend most of my Mother's Day running around to celebrate all the other mothers in our lives and have occasionally pouted over getting over-looked myself. You know, during one of those moments. Look, I am who I am people, at least I admit it! But the last couple of years, I have spent Mother's Day trying to wrap my head around this day. It's a weird day for me.

On the one hand...
I work my butt off. Yeah, I said it. I am well aware. And I am not exactly opposed to having one day a year where I get a little recognition for it. Granted, both my husband and my children do try to show me regularly that they appreciate the things I do for them and I love my "job" as their mom, wouldn't trade it for the world. But it's a tough job, so an annual treat won't be rejected by me.

On the other hand...
(My friend, Leslie, and I have talked about this a lot), when you struggle with infertility the way we did/have/are, Mother's Day can be a real slap in the face. Yes, it becomes bittersweet when you actually have a squishy, snotty someone to give you homemade cards and flower rings made of felt (thank you, Layla... it's itchy but I love it) but the ache in your heart that you feel on the Mother's Days prior to that never really goes away and you still feel it for the those you know who don't have their felt rings yet and are sitting in the pew next to you at church, while you stand with all the other moms when asked.

On the third hand... (I'm a mom with three kids, trust me... there IS a third hand, it just appears when you need it somehow).
I can't really spend Mother's Day feeling all "I'm so special" when I know that I wouldn't even be a mom if it weren't 1) for that sweet man spending his whole day trying to make me feel that way and 2) for R, the twins' firstmom, who did something SO HARD, something I could never even imagine doing, just because she loved those babies so much. I know how much I love my kids, more than I ever thought possible, and yet, I cannot even fathom how much love and courage and strength it takes from a mother, from their mother, to trust them in the hands of another. Actually, now that I think about it... R didn't know me. It wasn't that she trusted another mother, she trusted a father. The Father. And I wouldn't be their mother if she didn't trust the Father.

"And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me."
Matthew 18:5

So thank you, Nathan, Layla, Brynn, and Cale. . Thank you, R. And thank you, Jesus... for making me a mother.