MamaBlogga

It’s May (already!) and Mother’s Day is fast approaching. For so many mothers, what is supposed to be a celebration of all that we do for our families has become a dreaded occasion. Maybe we don’t hate Mother’s Day, just the maudlin commercialism that’s associated with it. Or maybe it’s that we look forward to this day where our children are kind and loving and appreciative, but we wake up that morning and they’re just the same kids as yesterday. Or maybe it’s that we have “issues” with our own mothers. Or maybe it’s that we have to confront that we’re not the moms we wished we were.

No matter what the reason, I think it doesn’t have to be that way. We can redefine our expectations. Maybe instead of a day we expect our family to be perfect and treat us like a queen, we can strive for a day where we reflect on the things we’ve learned about motherhood, or the things we love about motherhood—or even just the things we love about our children.

On that note, I asked a few friends to post about lessons they’ve learned from motherhood. Their posts have already touched my heart and I hope they will yours, too.

So please read and comment on this week’s guest posts—and think about what you need to do to make Mother’s Day merry!

Between writing about motherhood, and actually mothering, I’m too tired to write anything else about motherhood tonight. So hooray! Mother’s day is on its way. What do you want for mother’s day? What’s the best way to celebrate motherhood?

Mother’s day began with only the best intentions. But, let’s face it, it can be a really rough day for moms, even if they get the day off from dishes and laundry. Here’s why

1. Make one day of the year that special day we all remember our mothers, and it’s okay to forget them the other 364 days. (And bonus on leap years!)

2. No matter how hard you try to keep your expectations low, your children still act like they do every other day of the year—disobeying, fighting, crying and sloughing off. Even though it’s your “special day.” (Is it just that they don’t care, or do they actually hate you? Maybe their therapists know.)

3. Everyone shares stories about the most wonderful mother in the history of creation (usually theirs), reminding us once again that we SOOO are not that. Even though it’ll probably be our kids saying those same things in 20 years.

4. Major takehome of Mother’s day: whatever the heck it is moms do all day/year long, it’s roughly equivalent to the value of a bouquet, a card, and one day off a year. Or half a day.

5. An alarming percentage of women who are now mothers have “an issue” with their own mothers. I don’t really get this one, but whenever I did a group writing project about mothers, I had people tell me they couldn’t participate because of this. And, thus, celebrating motherhood is bad.

6. The perceived emotional negativity of every little argument with you is enhanced approximately 10,000% because it’s the one and only day of the year they’re supposed to be thinking of you.

7. Our four-year-olds with the I-can’ts will doubtlessly refuse to join in singing one measly little not-even-very-mother-oriented song in church. Even though we completely expected this, and spent the whole week trying to encourage and prepare him, it will still hurt. Of course, it hurts a lot worse when the second the song is over, he throws a tantrum because he wants to go on the stand (to sit with his dad, best of all). And it’s even better when he smacks his sister with a book 10 minutes later and you have to drag two crying children out of the chapel again. But then you just have to laugh. Because Mother’s day sucks.

8. Inevitably, some well-meaning person (usually a man) suggests we should do this every day. No. Please.

Um… no personal experience in there or anything.

Had a disappointing—or hilarious—Mother’s day? Share—because sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying.

Photo by Chris A

I don’t know what I want. Or I don’t know what I want that I can actually get as a gift.

I’ll settle for chocolate.

What do you want? How do you celebrate Mother’s Day?

Photo by Annette Pedrosian

I doubt I have to convince any mothers out there of this, but as we work toward finding fulfillment in motherhood, we have to learn to treat ourselves with the respect we deserve, teaching others to regard us with the same respect.

My sweet, wonderful, well-meaning husband supports our family and goes to work ten hours a day, four days a week. He comes home and often the house is a wreck, the kids and I may or may not be dressed, dinner isn’t even planned—and I know that although he respects what I do for our family, he can’t fathom what I do all day long (or, apparently, why I’m usually running low in the patience department).

The world perpetuates an image of mothers, especially stay-at-home mothers, as either lazy layabouts who use daytime television to occupy their hours or drones who have given up all hope of future earning potential, “real” careers and intelligent conversation in favor of wiping noses and bottoms in a life that is a litany of thankless chores and children.

The world would have us think that we’re not “contributing to society” if we’re not working, though apparently it doesn’t really matter whether we’re “contributing” as tattoo artists or professors of medieval literature, as long as we aren’t at home caring for our own children. And if we’re not out in the workforce, we don’t have a “real job.”

I’ll be blunt like I never have before on this blog. That thinking is a load of crap.

Do the wonderful people who earn their living caring for our children while we mothers are doing more “productive” things have “real jobs”? Do the wonderful people who donate their time, talents and efforts to volunteer causes—striving to make a difference, to improve the world—have “real jobs”?

Mothering is the most important “volunteer” opportunity I could be involved in right now. I am consecrating my time, talent and efforts to raising my children—and most days, it is grueling.

Mother’s day may seem like an odd time to point this out, since we often take this day as a day to rest from our motherly labors and let our families take care of the meals, the cleaning, and the diapers (oh! the diapers!). But really, this is the perfect time to point out all that we do, because they’ll never understand and appreciate it more, as Elder M. Russell Ballard did:

After sitting on the stand [at church] for 10 years, I was now sitting with my family on the back row.

The ward’s singing mothers’ chorus was providing the music, and I found myself sitting alone with our six children. I have never been so busy in my whole life. I had the hand puppets going on both hands, and that wasn’t working too well. The Cheerios got away from me, and that was embarrassing. The coloring books didn’t seem to entertain as well as they should.

As I struggled with the children through the meeting, I looked up at Barbara, and she was watching me and smiling. I learned for myself to more fully appreciate what all of you dear mothers do so well and so faithfully!

Mothering is not just a “real” job—it’s the most real job there is. No other profession has the influence, the reach and the eternal importance of contributing to society by raising up the next generation to be good, hard-working, righteous, moral individuals.

And you know what else? I have no idea what my husband does all day at work.

Today we’ll pick up where we left off with Elder M. Russell Ballard’s talk “Daughters of God,” about the eternal importance of motherhood. Last time, he talked about gaining appreciation for the work of motherhood and its eternal importance, finding success in motherhood, reducing pressure on ourselves and enjoying our families and receiving support from our husbands.

Today we’ll get to look at his thoughts on what children can do to show their support for their mothers. As he warned us, some of these answers are very obvious, but I’ll bet that most of our children could use the reminder. Plus, having this come from a source other than their mother is always nice reinforcement.

The third question: What can children, even young children, do? Now, you children, please listen to me because there are some simple things you can do to help your mother.

You can pick up your toys when you are finished playing with them, and when you get a little older, you can make your bed, help with the dishes, and do other chores—without being asked.

You can say thank you more often when you finish a nice meal, when a story is read to you at bedtime, or when clean clothes are put in your drawers.

Most of all, you can put your arms around your mother often and tell her you love her.

And that moment, especially when it comes unbidden and at a time when our children might not know that we need it, is one of the simple joys of motherhood.

Elder Ballard’s final question is what our church can do for mothers. I figure that most of my readers aren’t actually members of our church, but if you’re interested in his answer, feel free to read the conclusion of his talk, “Daughters of God.”