Mother's Day musings

Happy Mother's Day!

Did you remember to call your mom today?  Did you send her a card?  A card that you picked out -- or if you're a married guy, a card that your wife picked out?

My husband did call his mother.  He even did it without me prompting him to call.  But if it had been up to him, she wouldn't have received a card.  I chose one and made him write "love," and sign his name.  Then I added my name and took it to the post office.

I called my mother and all three of my kids called me.  It was nice to connect with everyone.

My husband did not wish me a Happy Mother's Day.  He used to give me a card.  Sometimes he would buy me flowers.  His "go-to" gift is a box of Fannie May chocolates.  On our way home from Indianapolis yesterday we stopped at a chocolate shop that I've wanted to check out for quite some time.  We bought a box of assorted dark chocolates, so he lucked out there.  If he had had to make a special effort to purchase something on his own, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have gotten any sort of gift.

I remember years past when my kids were young enough to be in the children's choirs at our church.  For some reason the choir directors (all mothers themselves) seemed to think it was a great idea to have the choirs sing for the Mother's Day worship services.  That's right -- services -- plural.  Maybe I was in the minority, but my idea of a happy Mother's Day did not include rising before the crack of dawn to get my kids dressed and presentable in order to be at church at 7:15 a.m. so they were ready to sing at the 8:00, 9:30 and 11:00 worship services.  I could see how my and my children's efforts honored God, but I was just selfish enough to want to experience a little honoring too.  By the time we finally got home from church, more than five hours later, I was usually too tired to care if anyone honored me.  All I wanted was a nap.

Going way back, I remember the brouhaha that erupted on my first Mother's Day.  Our daughter was nine months old and my husband told his mother that we had plans for that Sunday and we would stop by to visit with her another time.  To say she was not pleased was putting it mildly.  She could not understand why her son was choosing to spend the day with his wife and child instead of his mother.  Even when he politely explained that he wanted to spend the day with the mother of his child, she still was upset.  I'm pretty sure she thought that I was the instigator of the plan to ignore her on her special day.  It never occurred to her that I was deserving of my own Mother's Day recognition.