Survived Another One

"Yes, Mother. I can see you are flawed.  You have not hidden it. That is your greatest gift to me." -Alice Walker

I am learning how to handle this whole Mother's Day thing. I'm not there yet, but I'm slowly getting there. I didn't cry this Mother's Day. I'm pretty proud of myself for that one. 

I think things have improved because I have quit attending sacrament meeting on Mother's Day. In years past, I have sat in the congregation holding back ugly sobs as well-meaning brethren have discussed their angel mothers and the angel mothers of their children.I have sat slumped in my seat as these angelic descriptions in no way resemble myself. 

My heart has gotten heavier and heavier as the importance of motherhood is emphasized and re-emphasized, and I realize the countless areas I may very well be failing my children in. 

We are reminded that if there is anyone who can save the world, it's the hand that rocks the cradle. It is reiterated that the success of future generations depends wholly on the success of mothers in the home. I have been tempted at times to stand up and say, "Stop it! It's too much. I can't save the world and get dinner on the table! Don't place this all on me."

So I just stay home and prepare my Young Women's lesson, thankfully not on motherhood. Then I sneak into church to teach my lesson and try to sneak out unnoticed. Usually I get snagged by yet another well-meaning brother, trying to make sure I get my bag of Mother's Day chocolate. Wouldn't want me to go unrecognized on this special day.

It is a wonderful holiday. I love appreciating those angel mothers in my own life. There just isn't much room for us moms of the more mediocre variety. So I put on my brave face every year and endure the holiday. I get a little better every year, and breathe a small sigh of relief when it is finally over.