When I picked my youngest up from school last night, she started crying. This isn’t normal for her. I, obviously, asked her what was wrong. Between sobs, she told me, “I tried to make you a card for Mother’s Day, but it just turned into a huge mess!” Aw, sweetheart. I gave her a hug and told her it was completely okay. I wasn’t mad, I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t upset at all. I explained to her that actual Mother’s Day doesn’t mean much to me, because I celebrate Mother’s Day every single day.
Every time that one of my girls gives me a hug or a kiss and tells me she loves me, I celebrate being a mother.
When my youngest hid a drawing in my car (I don’t know when she hid it, but I found it about a week ago) that had a crayon rubbing of tulips and said “I love you, Mommy,” I celebrated being a mother.
When we were shopping last weekend and my daughter pointed to the shirt that said “World’s Best Mom” and told me that was supposed to be my shirt, I celebrated being a mother.
Each time I’m helping my daughters with their homework and I see how hard they work and how smart they are, I celebrate being a mother.
Every time I get both of them into bed and soundly asleep, healthy and happy for one more day, I celebrate being a mother.
When I act silly with my girls and make them laugh even though they’re rolling their eyes at me, I celebrate being a mother.
When my husband tells me that our eldest is acting more and more like me each day, and that he’s so happy to see that, I get a little choked up and I celebrate being a mother.
Every time that the girls go to Texas to visit family and the house is just too quiet until they come home, I celebrate being a mother.
When I’m bone-tired of picking up toys and books and games and little pieces of whatever it was that I just stepped on, I remind myself that I’m grateful and blessed that I was able to have two children and I celebrate being a mother.
One specific day in May isn’t when I celebrate being a mother. Being given a card or taken out to dinner because it’s become expected isn’t how I celebrate a being a mother. I celebrate it every day. Even the days where I’m being given headaches instead of gift. That’s part of being a mother. Not my favorite part, but it’s worth it.
So, to all of the other mothers out there, happy Mother’s Day! Today, tomorrow, Sunday, and every other day that you get to remember how blessed and loved you really are. 🙂