Hues of Motherhood

Hope Mother's Day was meaningful for all of you dear friends & family.  It's a sweet, emotional day, isn't it?  Emotional for lots of reasons.  Sweet for lots of reasons.  And the reasons are all different for all of us. 

I spent a chunk of time Sunday looking through boxes to find the gift Wes gave me for Mother's Day the year before Lucy was born.

After crying tears of love and pain over that handwriting and message for a couple of days, Tuesday morning I got out the crayons and let Spencer pick a couple of pages for us to work on together. 

I thought his choice was perfect. =)

A great representation of life in general, and of his constant finger sucking specifically. 

Oh, I do so love these colorful kids. 

And they seem to love me in spite of my being Mother the Grouch lately.  Impatience has half replaced tears as a manifestation of my grief on a day to day basis around here.  It's way not my favorite.

But somehow, love always seems to always surface. 

I don't know the circumstances behind that little card.  I happened upon it at random the other day.  But the sincere, self-motivated inscription brought a few motherly tears to my eyes. 

So did this scene, barely visible in my hasty camera phone photo,

Spencer had been playing with friends on our swing set and was experiencing hurt feelings/frustration about something that had happened.  Naturally he set out to find me, but before making it into the house, he found Lucy.  The two of them sat together for several minutes and through my open kitchen windows I could hear Lucy softly coaching her little brother through his frustration.  He never did come in to get me.

They are both growing up so much.  They are both increasingly independent and willful. Which makes for an increasing number of power struggles.  I offer abundant prayers of thanksgiving every time the Spirit helps me to answer softly or to reason respectfully.  I offer abundant apologies every time my natural mother gets the best of me and I react harshly.  And I love every moment that manifests love over anger or frustration.  Like a few weeks ago when Lucy, after raging into her bedroom after some disagreement, emerged for a tearful hug.  She said to me, "Remember what you said about you and dad?"  I didn't remember.  She reminded me, "How sometimes after you worked out a hard thing together, you loved each other even more?" 

I had told her about that - months ago - but I didn't think she'd been listening.  I guess she was.  I guess she is.  And I guess she has that little voice in her heart to remind her.  The same one that reminds me. 

And I wonder sometimes if Wes doesn't often see me grappling to keep it together and occasionally whisper in their ears.  I feel sure that's what's happening every time Spencer chirps, "This is a yummy dinner, Mom!!" after I've grudgingly prepared a meal, or every time he stops what he's doing and comes over to look me in the eyes and smack me a big kiss on the lips.

How cliche to say "those little moments make it all worthwhile." 
How grateful I feel for those and other little indications that my children just might grow up to be loving, good, compassionate people in spite of the mistakes I make as their mother. 

I do love being their mother.