mother’s day

Happy Mother’s Day 2014

Growing up, my mom used to say that Mother’s Day was her favorite day of the year. I thought that was because she didn’t have to cook and clean, and maybe received something nice (if she was lucky) or useful from the fam.

Now that I’ve had a few under my belt, I understand that statement a bit more. The niceties are lovely and sentiments sweet but it goes beyond that.

I’ve spent a few minutes today unwinding on some social media outlets and reading through everyone’s tributes to their moms or motherhood. It is beautiful. I love the collective celebration that arises out of this Hallmark holiday to proclaim the value and honor in mothering.

Tributes from moms of 7, adoptive moms, first time moms, moms who struggled with infertility, men and women who had really fantastic moms and grandmoms. My heart is full reading these sweet statements. Though only a sentence or two at best, all are deeply full of stories about how these moms came to be and came to be remembered. Best. Day. Ever.

What does Mother’s Day mean to you?

To me it is a day to remember:

-how I always have someone to share my chocolate with, always

-how most mornings I am awakened to the sound of a little, squeaky stroller being wheeled into my room

-how pb&j’s are highly preferred over any kind of gourmet dish I could ever make

-how I really can’t remember the last time I got 8 uninterrupted hours. 11pm, 3am, 6am. . .I’m starting to learn the drill

-how leaving the house requires 6 steps, 1 hour of prep work, and 15 minutes

-how I haven’t heard a top 40 song in months, much less a nominated movie

-how often I can’t find anything at the store for myself, but always for them

-how every single errand is punctuated by questions and how those questions lead to more questions and how tired my brain is at the end of the day. She may be getting smarter, but I’m getting dumber ūüôā

-how the most exciting thing I’ve added to my house thus far has been a playset

-how these two faces are the best gift I’ve ever been given



Happy Mother’s Day to all those blessed to be called Mama–in whatever form that may be,


Happy Mother’s day!

Happy Mother’s Day!¬† I am so incredibly blessed to have the mama I do and my “stand-in” mom-in-law too.¬† And two(ish) babies on top of it?¬† This is definitely a cause for celebration.

But¬† while Mother’s day is a¬† day that brings so much joy to some , it also brings much sorrow to others.¬† To the friends I’ve celebrated with and the friends I’ve grieved with this year, I remember you both on this day.


This year, I’d like to send a special Happy Mother’s day to all of the moms of toddlers.¬† You are the women of my heart because I know exactly what fills your days.

It is answering  the same question a half-dozen times in a row, ten times a day.

It is swearing that you’ll never be able to pick up another cheerio, raisin, or cracker off the floor, yet¬† you do it anyway.

It is passing by that one neglected corner of your house day after day, wondering when you’ll ever, ever get to it.¬† All the while knowing that someday you will, but also knowing that what you are currently doing is more important.

It is picking your battles wisely with someone who has zero reasoning skills.

It is mustering up the inner desire to read one more round of “Pat the bunny” or sing another enthusiastic rendition of “Wheels on the Bus”.

It is sacrificing  conversation with other adults to mop a feverish head, clean up another potty accident, or to play tea party with a needy one.

It is buckling and unbuckling those darn car seat straps trip after trip after trip.

It is wiping the same sticky hands and the same dusty prints day after day after day.¬† All the while lamenting how much bigger they’re growing.

It is baking cookies, dusting furniture, and picking up crumbs.  Always with a shadow behind you who, for better or worse, has their hand in the flour, their wet rag all over the tv, and a bite of graham cracker dangling from their lips.

It is putting your head on the pillow at night, wondering if you did enough, said too much, pulled away too soon, pushed too hard, gave enough grace, showed too much mercy.  Your job satisfaction is solely determined by your own approval rating.

It is waking up, knowing the quality of your day will be determined by the progress made, the minutes napped, the tantrums mine-swept.  And knowing that you have no control over any of it.  And being okay with that.

Be encouraged.  You keep it up because you are doing the best that you can, day after day.

These days are long and tiring to be sure, but something tells me we will look back on them as the best in our lives.

Happy Mother’s Day to all.

O, Happy Day

The season of being within eyesight of a toilet.
The extra lbs around the midsection.
The huffing and puffing to pick something up.
The wait that just about sent me over the edge…but…not into labor.
The back labor.
The pushing.  Oh, the pushing.
The sleep deprivation.
The blundering mistakes.
The messy floors.
This beautiful  baby.

I’d do it all over again, just to have you!

Last year, I was a new initiate into the Mama’s club.¬† I felt pretty green, too.¬† I knew I was a part of something great, but I didn’t know enough yet to know exactly how great.¬† This year, I’m a little more weathered (and wrinkled and greyed), and I think I’m just beginning to understand this whole mothering thing.¬† I feel so honored to be a part of this club….but at the same time…I know I still have a long way to go.¬† Thank you so much, LORD, for helping me get here.



out of the mouths of children:

A Mother is a woman who
-can bake a cake with six other hands helping her and still have it turn out fine.
may not have ulcers, but she has versatile tears. They show anger, weariness, hurt or happiness. Once, when Daddy forgot an anniversary, Mother cried. One Saturday, he brought home some chocolates when it wasn’t even her birthday or anything, and she cried then, too.
¬†-is different. She likes chicken wings and backs and the hamburger that is slightly burned — things the kids and Daddy don’t care for. She never takes the last chop on the plate, and she always saves the candy from the tray at the club to bring home to the children.
Thank you to my mom for loving us.¬† She taught me everything I know about cooking and cleaning and becoming a mom.¬† I love her so!¬†¬† Thank you to N’s mom for praying for me before & after she met me and for raising him up to be a godly man who takes care of and loves our family.¬† MG is fortunate to have two grandmas who sincerely look forward to seeing her, who light up with each and everything she does and who pray for her daily.¬† We are so blessed to have you in our lives and I’m so thankful that God gave us you!


The Best Part of Waking up….

Is most definitely NOT the coffee in my cup.¬† (I don’t even drink coffee anymore.¬† {I’m a tea convert…don’t hate})

It is the morning snuggles.
It is the first of forty-seven reads of Pat the Puppy
It is the long goodbye and drop-the-paci-on-the-mattress ritual.¬† Because she only gets it when she’s in bed.¬† Sometimes it “ends up” on the corner of the mattress so she can get to it later.¬† Don’t tell her I’m on to her.

It is an egg + cereal for me, pancake + yogurt for her.  And okay, a couple bites of my cereal too.  Just because I love her.
It is the pretend sips and swallows from my tea.  Followed by the big grin.  <>
It is this little thing:

running around in a pajama top and diaper because it’s too hot to sleep in anything else….and we really don’t get dressed until 10am.¬† Okay, maybe 11am.

It is realizing that…whoa…you are a Mama…and you have no idea what you ever did to deserve this precious gift.

This week is Mother’s Day week.¬† (yes, I am eeking out every last drop of it).¬† On Sunday we will celebrate and be celebrated.¬† But today, I am sad.¬† Sad for the Mama who was supposed to have her baby by now but the adoption fell through.¬† Sad for the Mama who is still, still on the waiting list.¬† Sad for the Mama who miscarried today at 17 weeks.¬† On the day of her gender ultrasound.¬† Sad for the women who will put on a happy face on Sunday, but deep down they are grieving and would wish nothing more than to be a Mama themselves. Mother’s Day is a beautiful day to honor sacrifices and love.¬† But it is also a painful reminder to those still waiting.

If you are a Mama, you have something that is a very sacred treasure: to love and be loved by a child.¬† Let’s remember that in the little moments that make up our day: in the food, the books, the memories. No matter how insignificant, they are lovely and treasure-worthy because they are what makes us a Mama. Let’s also remember this week those that are waiting.