Mother's Day

Today is Mother’s Day.

And guess who’s up with the baby, and who is sleeping in. Then guess who got yelled at when the baby went in the room and dumped out the file holder filled with important documents? I’ll give you a hint. The files were not mine. So I didn’t do the yelling.

Whatever.

Something similar happened last year, too, so I am not too upset.

I was upset last year. We had a big fight and I left and drove around, then I went home and was taken out for breakfast. Kind of a crappy way to win a breakfast.

Oh well.

I guess I have learned a few things this year. 

Like, sleeping in is overrated when I get up, drink my coffee, and play with the cutest darn baby ever.

Fighting is overrated when really, what’s the point? After all, anger is a hot coal, and the one who holds it gets burned.

My husband is not the perfect man. He is, at times, selfish, grumpy, lazy, smelly, obnoxious and annoying. Guess what? I am all those things sometimes, too. Yes, even smelly... but that one not nearly as often as he is.

When life hands you a pile of cow manure, spread it in your garden and watch the flowers grow.

Happy Mother’s day to all the Mother’s out there. 

Not just the ones who gave birth, but the ones who adopted. 

The ones whose babies were never born, or whose babies left too soon.

To the father’s who step in and become Mothers when there is a need.

To the Mother’s whose babies are furry, or feathery, or scaley.

To the Mother’s who maybe don’t have babies of their own, but take the time to be mothering to someone who needs it.

To my Mother, who is still my best friend.

To my sisters and friends, who share this crazy ride with me.

Happy Mother’s Day.

You are loved.

Even if you don’t get to sleep in. 

Even if you don’t get breakfast on a tray

Or a trip to a spa.

Or they forgot to send a card.

Even if your fur-babies can’t speak the words to remind you that you are appreciated.

Even if you feel you are forgotten, you are not. 

You are amazing.