Happy Mother's Day

6:45 a.m.  I'm laying in bed feeling a little bit sorry for myself.  The three years I've been eligible to celebrate Mother's Day have all been somewhat of a disappointment.  Chris's church responsibilities have precluded the sleeping in, "breakfast in bed" pampering I've been secretly hoping for.  Instead, Mother's Day is a repeat of every other week -- Chris heads out to church meetings at 6:45 a.m., inadvertently waking Clara as he shuts the door and pulls out of the driveway.  Then, I struggle through "single-parent Sunday" and all of the frustrations attendant to bringing children to church in a singles ward with no other children ( i.e. no nursery, or primary).

However, today as Clara begin to stir, instead of rushing into my room and demanding breakfast in the manner I cannot ignore (Mama!  I so hungry!!), I heard her playing in her room with her bin of stuffed "guys".

"Elmo, stop it!  That no good!" she ordered in a firm, no nonsense voice.

Ok, perhaps that was the Mother's Day wake up call I needed to erase my self pity.  Instead of laying in bed feeling bad that no one is around to congratulate me on what a great mother I am, I found myself thinking what it says about my mothering that the behavior my child chooses to mimic first thing in the morning is my stern chastising voice? For a moment I felt bad and resolved to try harder to temper my tone of voice and get down on Clara's level to rebuke her with loving kindness.  Then, as I drifted back to sleep for 5 extra glorious minutes I decided there was a high likelihood that Elmo was truly being naughty (perhaps intentionally dumping the milk from his cereal bowl on the floor or running into traffic).  In which case, he clearly deserved it.

Mothering crisis averted.  Now, who wants to watch Dora the Explorer on repeat while I take a bubble bath?