Obligatory Mother's Day Post

You know what I find ironic?  My complete love for all holidays, no matter how rediculous or made-up they are (ok we did not celebrate May the Fourth be With You Day this week), but I am not a fan of Mother's Day.  I just don't like it.

I remember in high school telling my mom how much I hate Mother's Day.  I think that is pretty close to the worst I've ever felt when I saw the look on her face.  I could have killed her first born child.  It was horrible.   

It's not that I don't love my mother or think she isn't awesome because she is.  Here's what I thought about my mother this week as I contemplated the impending Mother's Day: my mom's, or one of, best qualities is her love.  I never, not for one second, had to question her love for me, and all my siblings.  Why?  She probably told us 20 times a day how much she loved us, which always included lots of hugs and kisses and long lists of all the reasons why we were amazing.  She also knew exactly when to buy us treats.  Had a bad day?  You can rest assured that Mom would have a special treat for you the next day.  Just a little something to let you know that she was thinking about you and hoping you had a better day today.  Or even worse (better?), Mom would listen for hours, and still does, to me complain about everything.  I think back to some of the things I cried to her about and I want to just slap myself.  I mean really, Shut up Heather!  I remember my senior year of high school I was upset because I wasn't getting as many scholarships as I thought I should.  I was number 2 in my class, had lots of extra curricular, blah blah blah, give me more money.  The problem was I was middle class and white.  So what did Mom do?  I don't know how many hours she spent finding a California State Sponsored Scholarship for me and then called my school counselor to get it approved and I got it.  $1500 a year for 4 years.  It was a pretty good scholarship.  In that same conversation with the counselor, she must have said something else, because then the school invented a scholarship for future educators, which I then got.  That was another $500 or so.  Ultimately it's not about the money but about the time and effort Mom put in to making sure every one knew and acknowledged how amazing she thought I was.  And that's not to mention the time and effort she went to be at all my track meets and cross country meets just to see me run by once or twice and the rice bowls and fruit smoothies she made sure to have waiting at the bus for me on the way to the meets.   But she did this for all my siblings.  How she managed to be at all of our games and meets and still be home to make dinner, she must have had a time machine.  Point is, if Mom did one thing right and she didn't, she did a lot of things right, it was making sure I always felt loved and knew that I was her number one priority, along with the other siblings, of course, because we all know that Noah is the favorite no matter how much she tries to deny this fact.  

So I have extra reason to celebrate Mother's Day, and yet, still not my favorite.  I don't mind Father's Day, but Mother's Day, eh.

I've put some thought into it this week.  Why don't I like Mother's Day?  First, I don't like being told when to buy people presents and get really sick of buying presents.  Gift-giving is not one of my talents.   I really struggle with first thinking of what to give people, getting to the store to buy said gift, wrapping and then mailing it.  Hate it.  In fact, I put a ban on Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Father's Day and Anniversary gifts at our house because I just hate them.  

Second, I like the planning and decorating part of holidays, and with Mother's Day that's kind of a no-no.  The men-folk are supposed to do that.  Which Greg did very well this year.  After church, I read a book and took a nap while he made jam and brownies with home made whipped cream.  He also watched all 3 kids as Henry peed on himself in the middle of his nap so woke up.  He even made the kids a little tea party outside, which I thought was just adorable.  Then he set the table and did dishes at his parents' house.  When we got home, he emptied the dishwasher and put the kids to bed so I could rush off to the mission farewell of one of my Laurels.  So while I don't mind Greg doing the work, it kind of takes the fun out of the holiday for me.  

Lastly, this one I realized as I was yelling at my kids to get in the car as we were late for church, Mother's Day makes me feel guilty.  Poor Rex was just trying to give me the little card he'd made at school and I was yelling at him to get ready.  Is that what good mothers do?  Did I deserve said card?  Then all day I felt bad for every little thing I failed to do as a mother.  Alice was sad because she didn't have a card to give, guess I should have had her make me a card this week.  She ended up packing me a bag of strawberries as a gift.  I guess I've done a good job at hiding my fruit aversion from her.  Point is: only perfect mothers deserve to be celebrated on Mother's Day.

So there you go, why I just don't like Mother's Day, despite having a practically perfect mother.

And apparently I'm not a very good mother, because I don't have any recent pictures of Rex on my phone.  But enjoy some of Henry and a selfie of Alice.