Mother’s Day began when Joey plopped a naked Finn (diaper only) down next to me in bed. I kissed him behind his porcelain neck and we snuggled for all of five seconds before he asked me: 1) to make a tent with the covers 2) watch “Sha Na Na,” a reference to his favorite Sesame Street episode 3) read to him 4) play with my phone 5) patted my belly and giggled 6) “waffle pease.”
I heaved myself out of bed, guiding my belly along with my body. Pain shot through my ankles and knees and low back. Ugh. Only about six more weeks, I tell myself.
We went on a long walk. Too long. I forgot it takes me about 15 minutes longer these days to walk the same 2 mile route. I got home at 9:00. Church starts at 9:30 and I was supposed to bring donuts for the college Sunday school class. Quick text to Joey: No donuts this morning. Too hectic. Sorry.
Rushing around ensues. Mascara all over. Finn’s wheelchair smashed my bare toe as I was lifting it out of the car at church. I cursed. (Sorry). Coerced little man to go to his nursery class. Listened to what was left of the college Bible study. Jotted down a few notes for my “welcome to the church” this morning. I told the congregation the most practical, precious advice my mom ever taught me: When life is tough, look in the mirror and repeat, ‘My name is [insert name here]. Jesus loves me, and so does my mom.'” (Blog post about that advice here.) She is a doll, that mom of mine. She’s always interested in my life, asks the best questions and would give her arm and leg for any of her clan. Love you, mom.
After wheeling Finn out from church, we listened to his favorite sing-alongs to keep from a major meltdown on the way home. His latest fascination is with the visor mirror above my head. He asks me over and over to put it “up-a-down.” Twenty-three times. Took a few selfies on the front porch
to commemorate Mother’s Day since our photographer/daddy ran to Sprouts to get groceries (with which he made me the most delicious lunch).
Fed Finn chicken nuggets, peas and apples. Force-fed peas. Naptime long overdue. Whew! Finn is officially a two year old. Whiny, temperamental and defiant.
If I’m not careful I can mistake these motherhood gifts for annoyances. Being a mom is much more difficult than I ever thought possible, but the Lord was good to remind me today that being called, “mom” (twice, at that) is indeed a blessing. Undeserved and divinely appointed.
Happy Happy Mother’s Day!