My cup runneth over... and other Mother's Day Feelings

Mother's Day has always been a great day for me... I tell the children the story of the day they were born, they give me hand made presents I carefully tuck away to gaze at some time down the road when I can't believe how they grew up right before my eyes... I see my own mother and grandmother usually over brunch of some kind and generally walk around publicly feeling like a part of a pretty cool club, smiling at other mom's and nodding hello... but this year takes the cake.

It began with flowers yesterday afternoon and then a breakfast in bed made by the kiddos... followed by the presentation of home made gifts... a poem from my eldest he requested I read out loud full of beauty and charm, a clay flower pot from my daughter with the promise of filling it with flowers... and smiles all around.

But the greatest gifts were yet to be had. My son had a soccer game in which he expected to score a goal as a "present" to me. He played his heart out. Took a ball hard to the chest, stayed determined to keep himself in play, even lost his shoe at one point and kept playing right though it. When the game was over he walked up to me with tearful eyes and said he was sorry he didn't score a goal for me on Mother's day. I looked at him and said, "I'll take heart like that over a goal any day, kiddo. I'm so proud of you." The twinkle in his eyes and the smile that spread across his lips said it all: 'You love me anyway'. You're damn right I do...

We came home this afternoon and took a long bike ride down the trail. My daughter fell about five minutes into the ride, and after a little coaxing got back up and continued along the path. Well it was such a nice day and the trail was so clear we rode a two towns over before we knew it and decided it best to head back. Well my little kiddo was tired and her knee hurt and she was thirsty and she wanted ice cream and I looked at her and said I have none of those things. We're here. We need to get home and that's just that. What happened next was my other great gift of the day... She just started riding. That's it. All the way home. With determination and purpose and I saw, right then and there, that drive... that willingness to carry on even when the odds were stacked against her... it was huge to me.

I have always carried with me the hope that I might teach my children to persevere. Let's face it, as adults we live with that idea or we slowly spiral downwards... life is tough, but you gotta be tougher... that sort of thing. Well today, I saw that in the kiddos... and man was I proud.

Grace

Grace is one of the traits I admire most in people. Sometimes it's in grand form... fighting cancer, keeping your head up in a tough situation, taking the high road... but many times the beauty of grace is simplistic and brief. Witnessing it is something I take immense pleasure in... but I struggle with how to teach it to the children. It's a difficult thing to point out regularly... as it can be mistaken for kindness, an equally admirable characteristic, but more common and simpler to teach.

I've searched definitions like Webster's on line, http://www.webster-dictionary.net/definition/grace,"The exercise of love, kindness, mercy, favor; disposition to benefit or serve another; favor bestowed or privilege conferred."

Too antiseptic for me... So it seems to me the only way to teach the children to recognize and act with grace is to try to show it as often as possible and point out the examples when they show it and when we see it. I in no way believe this to be easy.

Owning your failures... forgiveness... strength... love... kindness... recognition... patience... it's everything you try to do as a parent... maybe that's why I witness it there. The seasoned mother who can transfer all those traits in a two minute phone message... the father who patiently sets and baits hooks for his young sons untangling lines and teaching instead of fishing himself on a rare day off... the mother who lets her kids "cook" with her for hours even when she's exhausted because she knows it makes them feel like they belong... the parents of the wheelchair bound child who never let her suffer for it because they're too busy taking here everywhere and doing everything with her as if she weren't... the father who coaches three soccer teams for his kids and still manages to compliment another parent for working the concession stand... the parents who's son gets JD but hardly skips a beat with anything he loves to do because they make it their mission in life to do so.

I feel exceptionally blessed to be surrounded by all kinds of graces every day, and even though I don't always succeed I try to emulate them... As far as the teaching children to recognize it, I'm thankful I have more time. It's a difficult lesson.