Mother's Day Memories
by Maryann Miller

Well, fellow moms, here it is that time of year again. Sunday is our special day when the whole family, including the dog, turns out to make us feel like Queen for the Day.
My kids are grown now, so the day can never have the same magic it did when they were little, but how sweet are the memories…..

My day would start with breakfast in bed, and I didn't care that the orange juice was lukewarm, the toast was cold, and the eggs overcooked. By the time the whole crew bounced on the bed a few times, it all got dumped in the middle of the blanket and the dog got the eggs.

Then I was led into the kitchen where I was greeted with a lopsided layer cake and the beaming faces of my children, who expected me to think it was the most beautiful creation I'd ever seen.

For some reason it was.

Then it was time for presents. My middle son came down the hall bearing a coffee can covered with a construction paper heart that says, "I love you, Mom. In the coffee can was a bunch of dirt and a dead tomato plant.

"I hid it in my closet so you wouldn't see it," he said. "And the plant died."

(Suddenly I wondered if I was coming down with a cold. What else could explain the watery eyes and funny scratching in my throat?)

Next, my oldest son carried in a large box wrapped in the Sunday comics. "This is something you've always wanted," he said with a big grin. "And I picked it out all by myself."

Inside the box was a beautiful pitcher with a matching set of glasses.

"Good," my husband said. "Now we don't have to drink iced tea out of Mason jars anymore."

Then he told the twins, who were four, that it was time to get their presents. I could hear a bit of a scuffle in the other room as he tried to explain to them why they had to give the presents to me, but they finally worked it out. Those two little monsters, who had wiped out my entire bed of chrysanthemums the week before, staggered in under the weight of two huge potted plants.

"We won't hurt these ones," they said, eyes wide with conviction.

(Then I realized that in addition to my cold, I was developing some kind of growth in my throat.)

My oldest daughter came forward with a small package that was topped with the most interesting bow made out of an old scrap of lace. I opened the box and nestled in a bed of cotton was a necklace, which obviously didn't come from a Crackerjack box.

"I know you really like owls," she said. "So I saved my babysitting money for a month to get this for you."

I couldn't help but wonder if this was the same daughter who last Mother's Day bought me a pair of pantyhose and herself a new blouse….

I treasure those memories and know that this is part of the 'reward.' You know, when people tell you parenting is so rewarding, and you say, "Yeah, right." When you are in the middle of the mess, it is hard to see the good things. But they get implanted in your brain and help your nest not feel quite so empty when the children are grown and gone.

WISHING ALL MOMS A GLORIOUS DAY. WEAR YOUR CROWN PROUDLY, YOU EARNED IT!