When I was a kid Mother’s Day meant making cards for my mom and breakfast in bed with Smucker’s Boysenberry syrup. I think it was her favorite but looking back now, I’m not entirely sure. She seemed to love the effort, though, and that’s what mattered. I’ve been celebrating Mother’s Day as a mother for 14 years now and it’s been kind of a mixed bag. Well, motherhood in general is kind of a mixed bag. On one hand I want to be recognized for what I do but what is my sweet husband supposed to say? “Wow, babe the way you cleaned the kitchen floor was something else. You’ve really gotten good!” Um. Not so much. So half of my brain melts (in a good way) every time someone even notices the mundane tasks that I repeatedly check off my list everyday. But the other half of my brain gets annoyed because, of course I can clean the dumb floor! I could probably run an entire company but I’m choosing to be here washing the exact same surfaces over and over and over again. Grrr!

But I do genuinely love being here! I love being a mom!

But you can understand why having an entire holiday to emphasize the conflict (not to mention…expectations and comparisons…[shudder]) might be a little complicated. It’s gotten so much better though. For one, I know myself much more and so I’m way better at communicating what I actually want and need to have Mother’s Day be successfully done and dusted. Turns out, I hate breakfast in bed. It doesn’t work for me, but I still want a day off from cooking. Unless it’s a fun dessert. Then I want to make it. I usually would rather have a live flower plant to plant in my garden, but on Mother’s Day I want a bouquet to put in a vase on my table. Like that. My poor husband has been a rock star dealing with my complicated demands and really has upped his game. This year when the day arrived, it was perfect. All the requisite boxes were checked and the conflict in my head was quieted by the love and appreciation I felt from my favorite humans. Truly, I wouldn’t change a thing about my life as a stay at home mom.

[Ok that’s a lie. I’d have a self-cleaning kitchen sink that never gets gross.]

Saturday Neil brought me flowers. I love them. Sunday Neil made breakfast for me and the kids, then my little girls made sure I was properly beautified.

The cards get better every year and the kids each spoke in our church service (Naomi turned her talk into a paper airplane for me). They even sang me two Mother’s Day songs, and I may have cried a bit.

Remember that fun dessert I wanted to make? Well, we broke quarantine to go to my grandparents house and I volunteered to make dessert. Blueberry crumble! I’ve never made one before and it was a hit, so I guess it tasted good. Yay!

The real highlight, though, was hanging out with two of my favorite moms. I love these women and attribute most of my enjoyment and success as a mom to them. Oh the adventures they had raising me…there were definitely moments where I’m sure I caused internal conflict over the joy of motherhood.

Also playing “Speed” for the first time in a long time and getting trounced.

This picture was taken at my other favorite mom’s house, back when my hair was short and not bleach blond. Mother’s Day wouldn’t be complete without recognizing the woman who raised my husband into the man he is. I’m not sure what all she did, but I’ll be eternally grateful that she managed it. Thank you, Sara!

Like I said, I genuinely love being sandwiched in between babies perfecting my accents and voice acting skills. I’ve been mom-ing for almost 14 years and cliche though it sounds, it has been the hardest, most growth inducing, bestest thing I could ever experience. I’m grateful for how much more complete I am for having the honor of being a mother.