The Other Mother's Day Gifts

I have to say, that while shiny bikes with bells are all well and good, (and lo, they are very, very good!) I really do love the gifts that my kids make for me for Mother's Day. I find them charming in their simplicity and they are awesome things to keep and pull out and chuckle over as the kids get older.

This year, Sean made a pin in art. It is a pin only a mother could love and only a mother would wear. And wear it, I did. It is a blackish red heart with a star in the middle and a cat sticker stuck sort of lopsided on one side of the heart. But he made it with me in mind (apparently when he thinks of me he thinks of black hearts and lopsided felines?) and presented it so proudly that of course I was happy to wear it out in public.

Moms know when other moms are wearing kid-made gifts. We have a sixth sense for these types of things and we make sure to ooh and ahh over the gifts in front of the children who made them. Plus, you know, I haven't met the woman yet who would buy herself a black heart pin with a lopsided cat on it, or a tempera painted macaroni necklace with the letters M-O-M scrawled on the noodles. I'm not saying that woman isn't out there, just that I have yet to meet her. And when I do, I have a bridge I'd like to sell her... But mothers with children of a certain age are sure to get such gifts and then wear them with pride. Because we know that soon that age passes and then we won't be given such gifts.

Instead we'll be given the "verbal card." Which, incidentally, was my Mother's Day gift from Maggie. Oh that, and she 'let me' take her swimsuit shopping. Do I know how to celebrate Mother's Day, or what? After the gift of taking my 13 year old swimsuit shopping, I decided that what she really needed to swim in was a burqa and what I really needed was a stiff drink. Her suits (Yes, plural. We got two. Because when you are a teenager you like "rilly rilly need" two suits. Or something.) are really very modest and cute. It's a shame she'll only get to wear them in the house.

From Mary, there was a pretty purple petunia in a fabulously painted clay pot with "Happy Mother's Day" written on front. There was also a card that had a drawing of the two of us dancing under a rainbow and the phrase "I LOVE YOU MOM" painstakingly printed across the top. And there were also numerous reminders about what the petunia needs to grow--sunshine, air, and rain, just in case you were wondering--and there were also several tips about exactly where I could put the plant to best showcase its beauty. It has not stayed in the same place for longer than three hours since she brought it home from school on Friday. Apparently there are lots of places in this house that need the beautification that only a pretty purple petunia in a fabulously painted pot can provide.

From James there was a paper listing the fruits of the Spirit that he did in Sunday school. On the paper, in James' very horrible chicken-scratchy handwriting (I am certain that his handwriting proves he is a genius and that someday he will either be a doctor, an engineer, or another Unibomber.) he has listed the ways that I, as a mother, have demonstrated the fruits of the Spirit. My favorites are:
Peace--she keeps peace between me and Maggie
Faithfulness--she comes to church even with migraines
Gentleness--she doesn't whack anything at all
This sheet also had a little bag of dried fruit snacks with it that my children all immediately called "dibs" on and argued over.

Good times. Because it isn't Mother's Day until the children squabble and argue over a .9 ounce bag of dehydrated fruit. Somebody (or 4) has to keep me from getting a big head. Right?