Smother’s Day

My five year old woke me up this morning with a giant Bionicle in my face.

“Look what I made!!!!”

It really was a work of engineering art.

“Can I open my next one?”

I sighed. I smiled. “Yes”

It’s Mother’s Day and somehow the only thing that matters to the boys is still the Legos. I mean I get it. They are really really cool toys. And what kid doesn’t love toys? Plus most men have one-track minds. And for many of them it’s themselves. (Harsh? Maybe. But I said many, not all…and maybe I just keep dating jerks. But whatever. Not the point today.)

I felt a little defeated. How I can I tell them to put others first when the other to put first is me? Who will coach them to shower me with affection …and maybe some breakfast in bed?

I couldn’t make that make sense in my head. I couldn’t utter the words that would essentially say:

Hey child, stop thinking of yourselves and start thinking of me. Just one day. Think of me.

But then it happened.

“Oh, Happy Smothers Day, mommy.”

That’s all I needed. I needed to be more than the diaper-changer, Lego-buyer, Bionicle-builder, food source. I needed to not be invisible.

So, I hope all you biological, step, adoptive, surrogate, sister-aunt-grandmother-moms are indeed getting smothered today. With affection and gratitude.

Here’s to the love, the weight, the swelling, the gas, the pain, the stretching, the crying, the worrying, the labor, the bundle, the bonding, the sleeplessness, the colds, the fevers, the tears, the laughter, the hugs, the kisses, the snuggles, the games, the crafts, the movies, the holidays, the sweets, the memories, and the love the love the love that the wild world of mothering brings.