Mother's Day

This weekend I have been overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude towards Heavenly Father for the great blessing of being a mother to my two sweet boys.  Being a mother evokes so many emotions in my life -  joy, heartache, love, compassion, frustration, protection, worry, exhaustion... the list goes on.  I at times am overwhelmed at the great responsibility that is mine regarding my children.  It is because of the knowledge I have of this divine role.  A prophet many years ago called motherhood “the highest, holiest service assumed by mankind.”  I immediately self evaluate my efforts and wonder what I can do to improve.

Well I have a lot of room for improvement, but as it is, I do not know how I would function as a mother, if it weren't for my relationship with my Heavenly Father.  I cannot recall how many times I have been struggling with a particular challenge with a child.  I contemplate ideas of how best to resolve that issue.  When my ideas do not work,  I turn to the internet for tips and parenting advice.  And finally I am down on my knees pleading for guidance on what to do.  It is usually immediately that I am taught, and it is no surprise that it always works.  I know without a doubt that my role as a mother is a partnership with God.  There really is no comparison of what I am capable of accomplishing alone, and what I can accomplish when I ask for His help.  It's night and day. 

I know with all my heart that the ultimate reward is to live with my beautiful family forever.  It is a constant source of joy knowing that because Jared and I were married and sealed in the temple, that our marriage isn't "until death do us part" but will continue after this life, and that we will continue to live with Porter and Tyson and the rest of our family. 

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Mother's Day was a wonderful day, or rather weekend in my case.  Friday night was date night, and Jared took me to pick out some new shoes for Mother's Day.  I assumed that was my gift.  Saturday I woke up late and realized that Jared had risen with the early riser, Tyson.  I went to the gym and had a good work out while Jared watched the kids.  And when I returned home he told me that he was going to take the boys shopping and I was supposed to go get a pedicure, which was heaven.  Sunday, he again rose with my early riser.  Porter and Tyson gave me a book I have been wanting for a few months, and some chocolates.  Daddy cleaned up dinner, and helped with the kids.  And now it is Monday, and once again I didn't wake up with our little early bird.  I could get used to this.  :)

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Of course, a weekend like this does not pass without thoughts of our own mothers.  I simply reflected on small insignificant memories.  I remember being in Kindergarten and getting Subway sandwiches for lunch every Friday.  We would bring them home, and I would eat mine on a plastic picnic table that the kids sat at.  I remember my mom was a worry wart, and we were taught to never go with any stranger, police officer, etc even if they told us our parents said it was okay.  That was, unless they had the secret password- "Pinnochio Porter".  It feels like a sin to say it out loud even now.  I remember my mom had a baby, and was in the hospital and our next door neighbor was supposed to pick us up from school.  We knew that in advance.  But still, when the next door neighbor's car pulled up to the school, we hesitated, and then discreetly whispered, "What's the password?"  She correctly answered, to which we happily piled in the car.  I remember one winter watching through the french door window panes, as my mom talked to Santa Claus on the phone, to let him know I had changed my mind since writing my letter.  I remember getting older and getting into music.  I wanted to buy cd's, but the rule was that I had to borrow the cd from a friend first and wait a good hour or so while my mom listened to the entire cd to make sure it was appropriate.  I remember having one cd that passed the test except for an inappropriate picture on the cover, to which we fixed by putting stickers all over it.  I still remember my first 2 cds.  I take it back, they were tapes.  It was Ace of Base, and Mariah Carey's Hero album.  That reminds me of another memory, which is a dad one, but still funny.  I had lost a tooth, and that night I carefully placed that tooth under my pillow along with a note.  It read something like this:  "Dear Tooth Fairy,  Instead of money can I please have the Michael Jackson tape?"  The next morning I looked under my pillow and there was two dollars and a note that said "I'm all out of Michael Jackson tapes, but maybe this money will help you buy it."  I'm pretty sure the next day I spent it all at the snack bar, and I never did get that Michael Jackson tape.  I remember having friends over and listening to music and my mom would come in dancing her crazy 70's dance moves, and I would be SO embarrassed.  And now I totally do that to my own little boys and Porter looks at me like I am crazy, and I just laugh because it reminds me of my own mother.  Good times.  I grew up with good times, that is for sure.  Thanks for the good times, mom.