When You Feel Messy on Mother’s Day

On Mother’s Day, I just wanted to sleep in.

That was it.

But my boys quietly came into the room with cards, my middle son, with a banana. “Mom, you wanna banana for breakfast?” He tried to peel it, then stopped. “Uh. I can’t do it. Can you peel it for me?”

And then he handed me a bookmark he made at school. “Happy Mother’s Day!”

On the bookmark, there was a print of his thumb. It said, “Thumbbody loves you.”

🙂

Next, my oldest son, our preteen who has been stretching our patience lately with his “independence,” handed me a card. He wrote, “Mom, you almost always use a kind voice with me. You almost always never get mad at me.”

The “almost always” mom – yes, that’s me.

Then my youngest, my four-year-old-daughter, proudly gave me her Mother’s Day gift, a huge piece of construction paper already worn and wrinkled from her handling. It was a portrait she made of me – constructed with everything but the kitchen sink, and possibly a whole bottle’s worth of glue.

It was innocent and heartfelt. But I chuckled inside because if this is how she sees me, I’m a mess.

“I think it’s beautiful, ” I told her.

To be honest, I always thought I’d be more “put together” as a mom. I always imagined I’d be more fun, more carefree, less frazzled by the chaos of life. I naively believed I could keep up a nice and neat home, all the while raising some pretty downright impressive kids – all the while feeling healthy and motivated and patient. But life is messy, humbling, and it has a way of wearing you down. And yet motherhood takes everything you have, and then some.

Yes, I’ve had moments where I have felt strong. But my kids have also seen the inroads of my brokenness.

Yet sometimes I think, if we’re not at least a little bit disheveled by motherhood, then have we let it change us enough?

I look again at the portrait my daughter has made of me. Despite the random blonde hair, maybe she’s got me pegged.

Motherhood has left me windblown and ruffled.

But thank God it isn’t about perfection.

I look to my nightstand. There’s a squishy, browning, half-peeled banana sitting inches away from me.

A little gross.

But a little sweet.

Even though I didn’t quite get to sleep in this morning, how can I not be thankful?

Somehow in the flurry, there are small moments that just overtake you.

But only when we take the time to see through the mess, to the blessing.

Happy Mother’s Day. ❤