This year was no different than any other. I knew my birthday was coming (as it does every year :), but with us making preparations for Dave's family to visit us over Thanksgiving, and my birthday falling on the day they were leaving, I knew it would be a whirlwind weekend, and I myself thought I may even be guilty of forgetting it this year :) Alas I remembered though. The morning of my birthday was the last day that Dave's family would be there. Dave was going back to work after the extended holiday weekend, and the kids and I would be dropping his parents and brother off at the airport midday.
As I got out of bed and headed downstairs, I realized Dave's mom had already brought Alex downstairs to feed him breakfast...what a blessing, but as with any morning, the blessing of that moment quickly turned into irritation as I entered the kitchen, and the first words out of Abbie's mouth were "Can you turn my cartoons on?" Followed by Alex's whines to get out of his highchair now that I was in view. My detour to grab coffee first was quickly interrupted by more requests for cartoons, food, clothes to change into, and whining. I was silent. Internally starting to simmer, externally going through motions and making requests as I held back my irritation to "please say please", "one moment please", "let's get dressed first", and so on....I went into grab clean clothes out of the dryer, (for the mountain of unfolded clean laundry was my only option for clean clothes at the moment :). As I was squatting down digging in the dryer, Alex came up to give me a hug from behind, and bit me right in the middle of the back, and at that moment I started to cry. I yelled at him and probably flicked him in the mouth in the process for doing so...I can't remember, but dangit.....something that continually baffles me about raising kids is how I can go from having a big smile on my face to crying angry bitter tears in a moment. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and shook it off. Picked him up and proceeded to go get my coffee. Dave was downstairs preparing to leave at that point, and we were fixing our coffee next to each other. I wanted to swallow it all. Stuff it. Not even bring up my birthday, and see who actually remembered, but then I knew what would happen. I would wallow in that all day, and get more and more angry that no one remembered, and chances are, someone did, but it was just a busy weekend, and if they did forget, who can fault anyone for that? We all have a lot on our plates, and so I swallowed my pride, and whispered "Guess what today is?" to him. He smiled, and whispered back "Happy Birthday." A few minutes later as I was preparing my own breakfast I heard a chorus of voices beginning to sing "Happy Birthday" to me, and I looked up, and all I could see were the two sweet faces of the children I treasure most in the world, who moments ago made me so mad, now looking at me with sweet, beautiful, innocence, and a great depth of love for their mama. That's it. That moment I had just had where Abbie was demanding and annoying, and Alex was whining and bit me was long over in both of their minds. I was the only one who still cared. I was the only one holding onto bitterness and unforgiveness. It was there in that moment that I realized....I am so blessed, and moments ago my heart had been hard and angry, and now my eyes brimmed with tears as I smiled at the simplicity of this blessed moment.
Our lives as moms seem to be filled with endless demands and sacrifice. Constantly giving until we are depleted with no reserves to draw from, and then in moments like this, we realize that our children may not ever give us a thing in return for what we have sacrificed for them, and we find a way within that to realize just how blessed we really are.
They aren't perfect, but then again we aren't perfect children either. When I find myself shaking my head at something my children do, or I feel like a broken record repeating the same instruction to my kids over and over again, I am humbled to realize how patient, and loving my own Savior is with me. He gave everything for us, and yet still delights in us no matter how many mistakes we make, and how little we give in return. That is the beauty of the gospel, and God continues to use my children to remind me of the depth of love He has for me.
My birthday was perfect, Not defined by balloons, or cake, or lots of presents. It was perfect because of the imperfect things that make up my life. Those, imperfect moments, and more importantly, those imperfect people are the most beautiful parts of me.
Blessings,
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