Reflections... Mother's Day

This was my first Mother's Day as a single mother. Save for last May, my then husband, would have a lovely breakfast set up - nothing terribly fancy, some fresh fruit, perhaps croissants or some other bakery delight, orange juice served in champagne glasses and fresh flowers on the table. Lilies are my favorites. The kids would have their home made cards and there'd be a thoughtful gift set at the head of the table for me. My day always started off with a bang and would go downhill from there, sometimes faster than others. I am not meaning to sound ungrateful, I am simply being truthful. As with all other holidays, though Mother's Day really isn't such, some are better than others. I remember lovely lunches at various restaurants where the children were terribly well behaved and we ate and relaxed beneath the sun's warming rays. I remember days where the children would whine, fight and not cooperate. I remember having to share the day with my Mother in Law, and while I loved her dearly, it was simply not a day I wanted to share. I understood the significance and for many, many years, we'd pack up the children and pay her a visit and our respects. I remember many of these Sundays spent in the family room coddling, soothing, perhaps even soothing a child of mine who was ill, sad or not well behaved, forcing me to leave my lunch/dinner behind to tend to a child... sometimes their father would attempt to help but oftentimes when a child wants his or her mother, only mother will do. And so this is life and how it rolls.

As a young and new mother I remember having an image of Mother's Day. It was, of course, idyllic in every sense. My children would tend to me and shower me with kisses throughout the day. There would be no bickering, no public outbursts. I would soon learn there is no such thing as perfection. I would soon learn to lower my expectations. I would soon learn that, sigh, Mother's Day was usually no different than any other day. And yet, despite my years of wisdom, I couldn't give up hope. As with every holiday, every Birthday, every season, every day, some are better than others. And while I couldn't give up hope I also learned never to get my hopes up too high.

My mother would always tell me not to make a fuss on Mother's Day - it's a day like all others. I feel differently, however. Being a mother is a lot of work. It's round the clock and it never ends. And even if it's not always taking a physical toll, there's always something in the back of your mind that needs taking care of, that you need to think about, worry about. You can step away from your home and your children, but you can never step away from being a mother. And so yes, yes I do want to be acknowledged for all the hard work and all the sacrifices I make to be as good a mother as I am able to be. I see nothing wrong with that.
Shower me with kisses.

Shower me with home made cards. Shower me with flowers picked from the gardens. Shower me with kindness. Be kind to your siblings. Help me out around the house. Pick up after yourselves. Don't yell. Don't shout. Don't raise your voices. Please don't make me raise my voice.

I would learn, over the years - and in the past year especially, that maybe an entire day would not be perfect, but certainly there are perfect snippets in almost every day. And that's what we all need to focus on.

And so yesterday, filled with plenty of arguing, whining, screaming, shouting, pinching, scratching and all those other things that children do, was perfect. In my 13 year career of being a mother, this one was indeed my best. My ex had the children make me lovely cards. And then he went above and beyond. He helped the children make me a fruit salad, bought some cinnamon rolls and delivered them with the children the night before. There were also two beautifully wrapped boxes. He had taken the children to get me a gift - a thoughtful gift. I was beyond touched. As I sat at the table with my children, in my new home, experiencing, for the first time, Mother's Day as a single mother I couldn't help but look around and see how luck I was, how lucky I am... how happy I was... how happy I am. There it was, my picture-perfect moment.

My parents would come to visit and take us out to lunch and we would dine outside in the warm sunshine. And the children, for the most part, were very well behaved. And there it was, another picture-perfect moment.

I would have several more throughout the day, but of course, life is not without glitches and faults. Later that day I would be in a battle with the various unmarked window screens of varying sizes as I attempted to get them into old, hard to open windows. I'd make a mess. I'd lose my temper. I'd struggle and curse and remain determined to be able, finally, to open the windows in my home. This is my new normal. I have to rely on myself now. I can't give up. I can't walk away.

As I fought with stuck windows and dirty screens, my boys were outside with the hose, a bucket, some soap and sponges, washing my car. (I use the term washing loosely!) They'd get soaked and come in to change (several times) and track mud and dirt and water through the house I had just cleaned and they'd toss their muddy wet clothes onto the floor (that I had just cleaned) while the dead spiders and other bugs (as well as a few live ones) would make their way inside, onto the newly cleaned floors.

But this is life. Perfect and imperfect. I had an absolutely wonderful Mother's Day. And now I can open my windows and let the gentle breezes inside!

XOXO

Jessica