Don't get me wrong, I totally want to celebrate my own mother so I don't think the holiday is a total bust. But this whole idea of celebrating me is preposterous. My own mom is certainly worthy of having a day to herself. Take, for instance, this year. This year she called me up and explained, in no uncertain terms, that I would not be getting her a gift. When I balked she insisted that anything I would have spent be put into the Matthew Fund. I still sent her a very little something and a card, under five dollars total, just to make sure she knows I love her. So yeah, she's worthy of a day to herself.
But me, are you kidding? There are days when motherhood grinds on my every last nerve, sure. But darn it if I'm not head over heels totally crazy in love with my boys. The cute shirt and flowers that my
So Happy Mother's Day to my own mother who is worthy of honor. Happy Mother's Day to my mother-in-law who somehow managed to turn her impish little boy into my husband. Happy Mother's Day to all the moms who are standing alongside me in the trenches of mommyhood. But, even in those trenches, I don't feel the need for my own self to be honored. I am digging through poop and wading through barf but there is truly no where else I'd rather be.