Mother's Day
We had to take my mom to the ER on Monday and she was in the hospital until Wednesday. She had nausea, vomiting and stomach pain that they couldn't seem to alleviate. After a stomach-cancer-possibility scare, they determined she has a bunch of ulcers. She's home now and on ulcer medication. I am now both caffeine and sleep deprived, so am waxing poetic. Here's a little heart-felt drivel for you.
There is a lot said about the nobility of mothers around this time of year. People fall all over themselves to rave about how unselfish and hard-working mothers are. I don't want to take away from any of that, because it is largely true, but I thought it was time to take a look at the other side of the issue.
Today, I want to thank my husband, for agreeing to have children even though he would have been perfectly happy without them. He wanted none, I wanted at least five, so we compromised on two. Instead of having a wife who brought home a second income and helped provide us with material comforts, he has supported a stay-at-home mom for all these years. I know that doesn't sound like a big deal to a lot of people, but it represents a sacrifice on his part, a willingness to sublimate his own wishes to ensure that, if we were going to have children, they would be raised the way we wanted them to be raised. Thank you, honey, for being a great provider for all these years.
Next, I want to express my appreciation for my kids. Raising those two boys has been the joy of my life. Even when I was so angry with them I couldn't see straight, I would trade the experience for anything in the world. One of them is as different from me as night and day, and I treasure that difference, for it enriches my life. The other is so much like me that we often engaged in furious battles. I treasure that sameness, for I can understand and empathize with it.
For most of their school-life, we lived in a rich school district, yet we were poor. Even though they were like Felix and Oscar, the Odd Couple, they shared a room for most of their childhood. They still managed not to kill one another, although it was close at times.
We had too many cats in the house (and outside!), because their Crazy Cat Lady mom couldn't turn one away. We still have too many cats in the house, and when they visit, they deal with cat hair on their clothes, on their belongings, and occasionally in their food (although I do my best to prevent that). They put up with this because they love us.
Even though one of them has drifted away from our religion and the other is on the fence about it, they are still living moral, good, and admirable lives. Their thoughtfulness and courtesy of others makes me proud on a daily basis. One of them has brought a wonderful young woman into the family, and we love her as if she was our own daughter.
We never tried to tell them what to do with their lives, and each of them has chosen the path that suited them best. One is a scholarship student at a university, and the other is a find soldier in the U.S. Army. We are proud of them both for choosing the paths they have, and for succeeding in them.
The joy of raising them has been the centerpiece of my life to this point. People praise mothers for enduring spit-up on their clothing, but sometimes don't realize that wearing evidence that you are a mother is a badge of honor. Sure, it would have been nicer not to be puked on, but the knowledge that it was my baby doing the throwing up somehow made it ok. It was hard to watch them make wrong choices and learn from them, and more rewarding than I can express when they made a right choice against the advice of their peers. I remember overhearing the oldest son, when he was around four, refusing to lie to me when his little friend encouraged him to. "I don't like to lie to my mom," he told her, and I got all teary-eyed with the warmth and love I felt for him at the moment. The younger son, when he was in elementary school, was the only person in his class to write, "Birth of Jesus" on the list of things they did in class about what Christmas meant to them. Things like this, done when I was not looking over their shoulders or even in the room, are what make being a mother rewarding. Things like this make all the tears of frustration and sadness that necessarily go along with raising children worth the ride. I could go on for pages about the things my kids have done over the years to make my heart swell with pride, but I won't.
I also want to thank my Heavenly Father for allowing me to bring these two spirits into my home and raise them to adulthood. The knowledge that He trusted me with such an important job both delights and awes me. I only hope and pray that I have lived up to expectations.
So on Sunday, though my husband and kids are not the type to bring me flowers, etc., I will know they love and appreciate me. I only hope they know how much I love and appreciate them.
Ok, end of the heart-felt drivel.
Question for J.: Have you ever made chicken spaghetti with RoTel tomatoes? Can you get RoTel tomatoes where you live? I ask because my friend in NY has never heard of them. I would be happy to send you some if you want them. I am eating chicken spaghetti (which Mike's yankee tongue is too wimpy to tolerate) and it made me think of you.
There is a lot said about the nobility of mothers around this time of year. People fall all over themselves to rave about how unselfish and hard-working mothers are. I don't want to take away from any of that, because it is largely true, but I thought it was time to take a look at the other side of the issue.
Today, I want to thank my husband, for agreeing to have children even though he would have been perfectly happy without them. He wanted none, I wanted at least five, so we compromised on two. Instead of having a wife who brought home a second income and helped provide us with material comforts, he has supported a stay-at-home mom for all these years. I know that doesn't sound like a big deal to a lot of people, but it represents a sacrifice on his part, a willingness to sublimate his own wishes to ensure that, if we were going to have children, they would be raised the way we wanted them to be raised. Thank you, honey, for being a great provider for all these years.
Next, I want to express my appreciation for my kids. Raising those two boys has been the joy of my life. Even when I was so angry with them I couldn't see straight, I would trade the experience for anything in the world. One of them is as different from me as night and day, and I treasure that difference, for it enriches my life. The other is so much like me that we often engaged in furious battles. I treasure that sameness, for I can understand and empathize with it.
For most of their school-life, we lived in a rich school district, yet we were poor. Even though they were like Felix and Oscar, the Odd Couple, they shared a room for most of their childhood. They still managed not to kill one another, although it was close at times.
We had too many cats in the house (and outside!), because their Crazy Cat Lady mom couldn't turn one away. We still have too many cats in the house, and when they visit, they deal with cat hair on their clothes, on their belongings, and occasionally in their food (although I do my best to prevent that). They put up with this because they love us.
Even though one of them has drifted away from our religion and the other is on the fence about it, they are still living moral, good, and admirable lives. Their thoughtfulness and courtesy of others makes me proud on a daily basis. One of them has brought a wonderful young woman into the family, and we love her as if she was our own daughter.
We never tried to tell them what to do with their lives, and each of them has chosen the path that suited them best. One is a scholarship student at a university, and the other is a find soldier in the U.S. Army. We are proud of them both for choosing the paths they have, and for succeeding in them.
The joy of raising them has been the centerpiece of my life to this point. People praise mothers for enduring spit-up on their clothing, but sometimes don't realize that wearing evidence that you are a mother is a badge of honor. Sure, it would have been nicer not to be puked on, but the knowledge that it was my baby doing the throwing up somehow made it ok. It was hard to watch them make wrong choices and learn from them, and more rewarding than I can express when they made a right choice against the advice of their peers. I remember overhearing the oldest son, when he was around four, refusing to lie to me when his little friend encouraged him to. "I don't like to lie to my mom," he told her, and I got all teary-eyed with the warmth and love I felt for him at the moment. The younger son, when he was in elementary school, was the only person in his class to write, "Birth of Jesus" on the list of things they did in class about what Christmas meant to them. Things like this, done when I was not looking over their shoulders or even in the room, are what make being a mother rewarding. Things like this make all the tears of frustration and sadness that necessarily go along with raising children worth the ride. I could go on for pages about the things my kids have done over the years to make my heart swell with pride, but I won't.
I also want to thank my Heavenly Father for allowing me to bring these two spirits into my home and raise them to adulthood. The knowledge that He trusted me with such an important job both delights and awes me. I only hope and pray that I have lived up to expectations.
So on Sunday, though my husband and kids are not the type to bring me flowers, etc., I will know they love and appreciate me. I only hope they know how much I love and appreciate them.
Ok, end of the heart-felt drivel.
Question for J.: Have you ever made chicken spaghetti with RoTel tomatoes? Can you get RoTel tomatoes where you live? I ask because my friend in NY has never heard of them. I would be happy to send you some if you want them. I am eating chicken spaghetti (which Mike's yankee tongue is too wimpy to tolerate) and it made me think of you.