I sat blow drying my hair this morning wondering how I would “hold it together” for my last Mother’s Day Tea. At school, the Pre-K teachers put on a little show and have a tea party for Mother’s Day. Of all the concerts and dance recitals at school, this is my favorite event! I reminisced this morning back to the first tea with Emeline. All the songs were new; we had matching dresses and the day was a delight. The second tea was with Sam. I sat and prayed he would keep his hands to himself, and my camera broke right as the show started! Today was my last shot at making sure everything went as it should. Zachary picked out my outfit to wear, the camera was ready to go, and all I had to do was compose myself long enough not to make a fool of myself (crying) in front of the other moms.
The show was a success, my camera worked and I knew and sang all the songs along with all the kids. My only challenge was when the class came parading into the room to begin the show. I watched my little boy as he searched the small crowd for me. When those big brown eyes met with mine, he gave me the usual “Zachary” smile of delight because his mommy was there and watching him. My eyes filled with tears as I realized this chapter in my life was coming to an end. The baby phase is over for me. It wasn’t too long ago I was told by a doctor I would never have children, or at the very least, need a lot of help. I guess God had different plans for my life! I always knew that no matter what a doctor said, if my babies’ names were in the Book of Life, then someday I would be a mom. “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope”. Jeremiah 29:11
After the songs we went and had tea with our children, and I was reminded of what servant hearts the teachers have. To see their love for the children made my heart humble and so very thankful that I had to fight back the tears once again. Our children created a list of things they knew about us like “what we like to eat” and “what color our eyes are”. They also guessed at telling everyone how old us moms are. Zachary gave me a ripe old age of 32, I LOVE IT!!
As any mom out there I am incredibly and “utterly” honored to be a mother. It is truly the highest calling a woman can have. I work harder today then I ever did in the corporate world. The older my kids get, the more I realize how quickly life is passing and we (as parents) only have these little people for a short period of time to nurture and teach them. There are times I struggle to choose them over what needs to get done in the house. I thank God everyday for them and I am humbled that God saw fit to make me the mom of Emeline, Samuel and Zachary.
At the end of the tea, the teacher read this poem “No More Oatmeal Kisses”
One of these days you’ll shout, “Why don’t you kids grow up and act your age!” And they will. Or, “You guys get outside and find yourselves something to do, and don’t slam the door!” And they don’t.
You’ll straighten up the boys’ bedroom neat and tidy: bumper stickers discarded, bedspread tucked and smooth, toys displayed on their shelves. Hangers in the closet. Animals caged. And you’ll say out loud “Now I want it to stay this way.” And it will
You’ll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn’t been picked to death and a cake with no finger traces in the icing, and you’ll say, “Now there’s a meal for company”. And you’ll eat it alone.
You’ll say, “I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around, no demolition crews. Silence! Do you hear?” And you’ll have it.
No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti. No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms. No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps. No more clothespins under the sofa. No more playpens to arrange a room around.
No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent. No more sand in the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathroom. No more iron-on patches, rubber bands for pony tails, tight boots, or wet knotted shoestrings.
Imagine, a lipstick with a point on it?! No baby-sitter for New Year’s Eve. Washing only once a week. Seeing a steak that isn’t ground. Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap.
No more PTA meetings. No car pools. No blaring radios. No more washing her hair at 11 o’clock at night. Having your own roll of scotch tape!
Think about it. No more Christmas presents out of toothpick and library paste. No more sloppy Oatmeal kisses. No more tooth fairy. No giggles in the dark. No knees to heal, no responsibility.
Only a voice crying, “Why don’t you grow up?” and the silence echoing, “I did”.
I pray all you moms out there enjoy each and every “Oatmeal Kiss” while you have them!
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!
Sweet blessings to you,
Debbie
3 comments:
Debbie,
I could not let this blog go by without a comment. As a mother in that next stage, I read this and tears welled in my eyes.
I sometimes hear parents that HAVE TO "run here" or "do this" with their children. They are spectators watching the game of their children's lives. Children want us playing it with them.
And oh how clearly they see. I'm amazed at what they see and ultimately who they become as a result of it. They absorb and learn so much from watching us.
You will impart a great future and hope on your children.
Love, Joanne
Debbie,
Having just celebrated mother's day with my last and soon to be graduating from high school daughter, your words ring true. Every time I walk through her unbelievably messy room I think next year I will miss this. I cry at the irony and beauty of the moment. Happy Mother's day Debbie.
Deb,
What a beautiful post. You so eloquently conveyed the spirit of motherhood and the heart of God.
I can relate to your story. Watching our children grow and letting go bit by bit is a bittersweet process. This is especially poignant when we close the book on one phase of mothering and open a new one. The best thing is the story is still unwritten.
"Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised." Proverbs 31:30
Love you,
KelliGirl
Post a Comment