Mother's Day

Today is Mother's Day. Last week my husband asked me what I wanted for Mother's Day. I had forgotten that the day was even coming up! I said, "I'd like to sleep late on Saturday morning!" Saturday is the only day I have to sleep late since I have to get my kids up for school Monday through Friday at 6:30am (though mom sometimes stays in bed a little longer) and we get up for church on Sundays. For six years, I delivered newspapers for a living, going to bed, getting up at 2am or earlier, throwing my route, then coming home to grab a nap before getting up to take my daughter to school. Last year, I quit and got a job doing data entry from the USPS. I work 7pm-11pm. Sometimes I have to work later or I go to the grocery store on Fridays and don't go to bed until around 2am. You can imagine my disappointment when Saturday morning around 6 or 7am, my kids start crawling into bed with me or my husband decides to chat with me. He usually goes to work around 1am, so 6am is sleeping in for him! And we get so little time together these days that he takes what he can get for chats. But four hours of sleep is too little for me, so this was my wish!




Yesterday morning, I woke up when my husband crawled into bed. He and my son had fallen asleep on the couch. I put Billy to bed and tried to wake Chris up, but he was dead to the world. So I went to bed alone. When I woke up, I realized that Billy was on one side of me and Arrena was on the other side. Chris tried to talk to me, but he must have remembered my wish because he said we would talk later and to go to sleep. Then I remembered him sending Arrena out of the room and trying to dislodge Billy from his usual spot right next to his mama. Billy refused. Chris whispered something in his ear, but Billy still refused. Chris said, "you always ruin my plans." I don't remember how it happened, but Billy eventually left. I remember waking up again with Chris getting dressed. I thought it odd because he was wearing his hat and getting socks, so I knew he must be going somewhere, but I didn't know where.



The next time I woke up, Chris was there and saying, "I've held the kids off, but they want you downstairs." I thought it must be really late since I had woken up a few times, then gone back to sleep and they had left and returned. The clock said it was a little after 9am. Chris said the kids had gotten him up at 5am. When I came downstairs, arranged on the table were notes, a card made by Kimmy at school, Arrena's silhouette made at school, a bouquet of multi-colored roses, and a box containing a heart shaped necklace with a large pink stone that said "love". I tried to get a picture of the necklace, but it wouldn't come out right. Anyways, this is a big deal because sometimes my husband forgets and that's a big deal to me because after reading Gary Chapman's Five Love Languages, I know that my love language is gifts. It was all really sweet. Billy had gotten his Gaga Pat to get me a pot of miniature roses yesterday. Chris said he picked out the flowers, sniffing them until he found just the right bouquet. This is only the second time my husband has ever bought me roses! Arrena said that I must really like the necklace because I keep wearing it (2 days in a row!).



My mother gave me the picture in the shadow box frame that you see here. She made it with material from both of our wedding dresses and cross-stitched the words and added the corsage she wore to my wedding and pictures of she and I at my wedding and of her and her mom at her wedding. It is really special. She made my wedding dress out of four different patterns that I picked out. She also made hers too. The blue hearts are from the material that she made her bridesmaid dressed out of.

The pastor's sermon today was really convicting for me and I have begun to really think hard about my temper with my children. Well, maybe it was less what the pastor said and more God speaking to my heart. I am praying for God's help with this. I was never a short-fused person before, I don't think. I think a lot of times my anger towards the children is misplaced--I'm angry at my husband and I take it out on them. Anyways, I have been trying to deal with this, but I just feel worse and worse about it. I want them to have a happy childhood, not grow up saying that their mother was angry all the time. I try to be calm and speak to them, but it doesn't seem like they respond until I get loud. Anyways, this is something I must work on. I want to be a mom that hugs and cuddles and plays and has fun and teaches them about God from my example, not the mom that yells and strikes fear. I want them to respect me, not fear me.