The elusive, magical day, in which I feel like a wonderful mother and am remembered for the trivial work I do around the house cooking and cleaning, a day that is filled with such high expectations.
Not to mention the fact that I lost my own mother eleven years ago. Or the fact that in Bolivia, mother's day is on a different day, so when May hits, I tend to remind Juan Pablo that mother's day is just around the corner.
Mother's Day for me rarely happens on the holiday of its name.
The real day happens here:
cheerful, belly-laugh giggles, while tickling tiny feet on our bed before night-night
a helpful hand folding clothes, when I never even asked
a child who exclaims, "This is the best meal I ever had!" after I've been chopping, stirring, and cooking for 45 minutes
holding hands crossing the parking lot....with my two older kids
"The house looks great!" when Juan Pablo comes home late from work
Small gestures and simple words.
What any mother wants, I imagine. And the act of trying to fit all that into one day is silly.
So, while we celebrated the special day with a trip to the strawberry patch, and a trip to the pool, I am mindful of it everyday, because if I'm not, I'll surely be disappointed.
