Mother's Day

What a great day. I spent the morning at my mom and dad's. My dad pampered us with a deluxe breakfast. I drove home and found that Mike and boys had made MAJOR progress around the yard and house. (We're prepping for siding and patio people to come in and give our house a face-lift.) Even did a load of laundry. Hurray. Then the kids piled me up with homemade cards. Tender thoughts from Berkeley: "Sorry I'm a grumpy teenager. Just ignore everything I say for the next 5 years." Sydney must have made a card a day for the last week and had them all carefully stashed and ready to present today. The kids sang in sacrament meeting, then I went home with sick Sam. I got a long nap and a long walk, and Mike's specialty barbecued chicken dinner. I'm so grateful to be a mom to these fun children. The greatest gift I have been noting lately is the way my girls love each other. They play happily and peacefully (for the most part) and just really adore each other.

I'm trying to remember that feeling gratitude for all the little shining moments can erase anger and anxiety. I focus too much on all the things I want to be doing...all the great programs, plans, and parenting techniques I mean to implement. When there are truly so many great things we already are doing. And the kids are thriving. Focusing on the shining moments clears away the hazy film of stress and despair. Thanks, Angela, for your post on shining moments. She refers to where M. Russell Ballard says:

What can you do, as a young mother, to reduce the pressure and enjoy your family more?

First, recognize that the joy of motherhood comes in moments. There will be hard times and frustrating times. But amid the challenges, there are shining moments of joy and satisfaction.

Author Anna Quindlen reminds us not to rush past the fleeting moments. She said: “The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. . . . I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less”(Loud and Clear [2004], 10–11).

I'll end on that note. Happy Mother's Day!