I sometimes have mixed feelings about Mother's Day. Yes, I'll admit that I loved to be recognized for the things that I do for my family. Bring on the presents, the homemade cards, the flowers (even if they're from the flower garden that I planted), the breakfast in bed (oh yeah, we have 8:00 church..maybe not this year!). But sometimes Mother's Day makes me feel a little bit guilty for not measuring up the the ideal that I set for myself. It's hard to listen to the talks and not think about what I could be doing better. I guess there's an opportunity to learn and try harder. Let's face it--- mothering is really hard. And that goes for every stage in the game. It's something we dive into without any previous instruction or experience. Kind of funny-- the most important thing we'll ever do and we have to figure it out as we go along! As my children are getting older I'm finding myself in different mothering situations that in the past. While I'm not dealing with diapers and feedings and crying babies anymore I don't know if it has gotten that much easier or if I'm any less tired. Maybe a different kind of tired...sibling rivalry and arguing and worrying about where they are and who they are with and how their testimony is doing. Still hard stuff. But I'm absolutely convinced that the joy is there to be found in everything and every stage. Joy is a funny thing. It doesn't seem to pop up spontaneously. We have to be looking for it. Joy can be there the whole time but unless we choose to see it we won't even realize that it was there. I read an article this morning about "mother mercies," those little moments of joy that make all the hard stuff worth it. We are surrounded by "mother mercies" if we only choose to see them. I think this Mother's Day weekend I'll be looking especially hard to find them. I hope you see them as well!
Since I can't get the link to work, I copied the article here for you to read. Enjoy!
Surviving on the Mercies of Motherhood
by Whitney Permann
People think I’m crazy when I tell them I love childbirth. It’s not that I like pain—I don’t. But there is just something about working really hard to get something really good. My husband and I have the routine down: we do whatever it takes to get through a contraction, then I slump back on the bed, as limp and peaceful as a noodle (as peaceful as a noodle can be) and rest before the next one hits. It’s hard work, but when the baby is finally born, the pain doesn’t matter anymore—and I experience joy beyond description. (Then I swear I’ll never do it again.)
It has recently occurred to me that childbirth can be one huge metaphor for motherhood. We “labor” day in and day out, moment by moment—scrubbing, brushing, wiping, flushing, buckling, holding, washing, folding—it’s a wonder more mothers don’t drop dead from pure exhaustion!
So here’s my theory: Heavenly Father knew how challenging motherhood would be for each of us—physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. So He sends us “mother mercies.” You know the moments—the ones that sneak up on you and make you smile or laugh—or teary-eyed. It’s like the time I caught a whiff of my five-year-old and realized he’d put on his daddy’s deodorant that morning. Or when he used to pray nightly, “Please bless that morning will come in five minutes.” It’s the time I found a bar of soap in my bathroom with one (and only one) set of teeth marks in it. Or when my preschooler asked me, “Why did Jesus cover our bones with skin?”
Perhaps these little mercies are like the pauses between our contractions of motherhood—the moments that make us say, “Oh yeah. I really love this mothering stuff.”
Contraction: Baby spits up.Mother Mercy: Three-year-old cries in alarm, “Mom! She’s spilling!”
Contraction: Five-year-old climbs on counter to find sweets. Mother Mercy: He explains he was simply finding desert for “Family Home Ming-Ming.”
Contraction: Patting your squishy tummy left over from pregnancy. Mother Mercy: Patting your baby’s squishy tummy that you got in return.
Contraction: Feeling overwhelmed and grumpy.Mother Mercy: Oldest child says sweetly, “Mommy, if you say a prayer, Heavenly Father will help you feel better.”
Think about it—what an interesting phenomenon—in our very hardest moments of mothering, Heavenly Father sends us these little flashes of reprieve to help us keep going with a smile. True, we have diapers and back-talking and tantrums and spills, but we also get kisses and first steps and stick-figure drawings and hand-pulled bouquets.
Look for the Mother Mercies in your own life. I promise they will pop up everywhere—when your toddler trips the alarm at the library (like mine did) or when he pours pop down the bowling alley lane (yes, mine) or when you find your envious child stripped down to his nothings at the park, staring longingly through the fence into the city pool (Whose kid is that? Oh, it’s mine). The Mother Mercies are always there. Don’t miss them!One Sunday while I was juggling my three little ones, an older sister in my ward leaned over and said, “This will all end someday, believe me.” To which I replied, “Oh don’t tell me that! I’m having so much fun.” Who knew that doing something so hard could bring me so much happiness? And just like the finale of childbirth, I’m hopeful that this mothering thing—this exhausting labor of love—will someday bring us joy we could never comprehend was possible.
