Happy Mother's Day?

Having 4 children one would think that on Mother's Day I would not have to do a thing. Even more so since they are older, right? It never works out that way unfortunately. But, in their defense I don't want anything either. Every year I ask for the same thing...a handwritten letter from each child explaining what I mean to them. Once a year I want my ego stroked so kill me!

Now that they are getting older the letters are getting better. When they were toddlers I would get drawings. The drawings would be of the family or of me and them, I still have them. It's so funny, Joe used to draw hands so big. Which in Art Therapy is a symbol of safety, I learned. Nathan would make rainbows that would cover the whole page. That was a symbol of hope, which made me very happy that he was hopeful. Allie's people never had hands, that's not good, and Sarah-Kate's pictures never had any of the other children in it. Her pictures usually where only of Mike, myself and her....I should have caught on to that.

This year though, my letters where incredible. They really blew me out of the water. Nathan wrote three rough drafts before he completed the final one. Joe's letter was a metaphor on how I am like the sun and will always be there even if you can't see me because of clouds. And he is only 11 years old. Allie's was on a scrap piece of paper and was about me being a great mom. She said her friends wished I was their mom, but not when I get mad. Sarah-Kate has yet to write a letter. She is 16 years old and trying to "find" herself. The other day she was a Hippy, the day before that she was "Scene". I wouldn't want to change places with her, it is such a hard age. I told her to stop and just try being "Sarah-Kate", because I heard that Sarah-Kate is totally cool. Keep her in your prayers please.

Finally the end of the day is almost here (Thank the Good Lord). Dinner at our house is always a bit of a chore. Getting dinner on the table, telling everyone to wash their hands, setting the table, and getting drinks, it can get pretty crazy. But on this "glorious day" we tell stories about me/mother. My family has to tell of a funny story about me. Not hard, I am a mess I am not going to lie. We are sitting at the table and the kids are thinking, and Mike pipes in and says he has one. Now, Mike doesn't really get into this stuff at all, like never. The kids tell their stories and we all laugh. But NOT this year,NNNOOO, Mike has a funny dating story to boot. The kids are all ears because 1.Dad doesn't really ever share like this and 2.It's a dating story.

Let me just set the scene: It is almost 90 degrees outside, feels like 100 degrees in the house. We refuse to turn on the air conditioner. We are sitting down to eat and the stove has been on for about an hour. Nathan doesn't feel good. Sarah-Kate is in a "I Hate" mood. Allie is on Tylenol 3 so she is just fine. Joe, well Joe just wants someone to play catch with him after dinner. Mike speaks up and says, "I have a mom story. It goes back to when we were dating". I'm just thinking great, I am positive I was drunk in the story (because I was pretty much drunk the whole time we dated) and rude (because I was young and crude). Then he spoke of a time we where in Butler, MO. Oh yes, one of our Butler stories, WONDERFUL!!! It was about a fish fry we attended back in the day. How I was in the bed of a truck with about 8 farm boys, and of course I was drunk. Which Mike did leave out, but it goes without saying. And we had a farting contest...and I WON.

Really Mike? Why that story out of all ours stories? How in the world do you remember that and why would you remember that? I wouldn't think that was a proud moment for you. But in the end my children learned a little more about their mom. I am a strong enough woman to hang with 8 big home grown farm boys and out fart them all. I am probably more of a dude than a dudette, but still love men (if you know what I mean) That people can change, I am not as gross as I was. But I am not totally PC either. That Mom and Dad were partiers, but not anymore. We left that life when we completely gave ourselves to Jesus.