Mother's Day

is my least favorite holiday.  Out of all the made up and stupid holidays, I like it the least.  It's one of the few holidays I would rather not celebrate.  Why?  Because while I appreciate the thought of the breakfast in bed and the cute cards and the frequent hugs throughout the day, what I really want, what I really really want, is for you hang your own towel up; to put your PJs back in the drawer after I already made your bed and cleaned your room; to not leave your *&#@! shoes in the middle of the of the hallway and give me just one more reason why I'm convinced you are trying to kill me.

Oh, but now look how ungrateful I'm being for not just being thankful that you tried.  Now I've got to feel guilty about that too, in addition to feeling guilty for throwing all your toys away because I asked you to put them away 3 times and you pretended like you didn't hear me.

Then add to that feeling bad that I did the same stuff to my mother all growing up.  Rather than call my mom Mom, we called her The Magic Fairy.  Don't want to put your laundry away?  The Magic Fairy will do it.  Don't want to make your bed?  The Magic Fairy will do it.  Don't want to do the dishes?  The Magic Fairy will do it.  We thought we were so clever.  Now I know why my mom disappeared for hours every Saturday growing up (it was probably more like once a month for an hour).  Nevertheless, we were jerks.  Sorry Mom.  If it makes you feel any better, my kids are jerks too.

So that's how today went.  Greg actually got up with the kids, but because I'm a mom, their slightest whimper wakes me up so I couldn't fully enjoy that.  Then Henry threw a fit about me not sharing the breakfast Alice made for me.  And then it was time to get ready for church.  And things went downhill.  Because I slept in, none of the morning chores got done, so I had to do that in addition to get the kids ready because we were having company over after dinner.

And then I snapped.  Henry ignored me, the older two were just lazy--leaving stuff out or getting more stuff out after I'd just cleaned a room.  So I threw Henry's toys away and lectured the other kids about no one wanting to come to our house because it was such a mess.  Then Greg suggested I drive by myself to church and he'd take the kids.  So I did.  Then I sat alone and cried while Greg made the kids clean the house before coming to church.

But then I had to feel guilty as I realized that all my wanted my kids to do was to show me love by keeping my commandments...Apparently I had to learn the embarrassing way what Heavenly Father means when he says, If ye love me, keep my commandments.

That is why I hate Mother's Day.  Normally the kids being lazy slobs is annoying but I usually keep it under control.  But on the one day of the year where they are supposed to show their appreciation for me, I just want them to hang up their dang towels and pick up their freaking toys but they just can't do it.

I wanted to take a picture of all the kids before church and be so thankful to them for making me a mother  (blah blah blah), but in the midst of my tantrum, I did not.  So this will have to suffice.