The greatest mother ever known

Mother's Day has certainly been a theme this week.  I appreciate the existence of a Mother's Day, if for no other reason than to get people thinking about their mothers.  Some of us have good moms.  Some of you have bad ones.  Even the bad ones managed to give birth to you, which I will testify is a difficult thing.

If you are a mother with young children, you almost certainly received something saying you're the best mom ever.  Either that, or they are upset with you because you took away their lollipop and they think you're the worst.

This morning, on this particular Mother's Day, even though he worked Easter, my husband had to go in to work at six a.m.  And like always, I had church at 8:30.  I woke up at seven, only to discover the big kids had let the dog out of her room, but not outside.  She had peed on the floor by the door.  Then I went upstairs, where I found my three year old had wet the bed.  Next door, I got my two year old up, and before I could help her up on the potty, she peed on the floor by the toilet.

I thought my pee troubles were over by the time we reached church (late!).

Near the end of sacrament meeting at church, the three bigger kids all went up to sing me a Mother's Day song.  I was getting all teary eyed thinking about how wonderful it would be, because this is truly my favorite part of Mother's Day, hands down.

That's when my two year old began to freak out, and I DO mean freak out, about not being able to go up to sing.  (They start with that in our church around three years when they graduate from the "nursery" into the "primary" program.)  She WOULD NOT calm down, so I spent the rest of sacrament meeting out in the hallway (or outside entirely) and missed hearing the song, getting a rose and anything else that the church group did for mothers today.

Then during a very long, very exhausting nursery day (I run the two year old nursery program at church), one of the kids peed on the floor there.

Which is how, after a few hours of exhausting mothering, I came to think about who really was the greatest mother of all time.

It certainly isn't me.

I've always kind of thought that Mary had it easy.  After all, her kid was perfect! But today I gave some thought to Mary's path.  She was chosen to be the Mother of God.  As such, she was certainly a beautiful and worthy daughter of God.  She then had the task of raising a perfect child.  I am not sure that was the bed of roses I always imagined it must have been.  Thinking back, this little nugget was there in the scriptures all along.  Think about the story of when Jesus stayed all day long talking in Jerusalem at age twelve.  His parents had no idea where he was! They didn't find him for THREE days according to Luke chapter two, at which point he was apparently just casually sitting with some doctors asking them questions and listening to what they had to say.

I would have lost my mind.  This makes me believe very strongly that Mary was honestly the best mother in the world.

When you think about your life (as a mother or just a woman), think about how much you judge yourself.  Think about how much others judge you!  Why just this weekend, I had some delightful octagenarians tell me that I had "brought my children into their hotel and let them come down to breakfast and run wild, effectively ruining the hotel, their furniture and everyone else at the hotel's breakfast."  I felt pretty judged.

I am sure that most of you have felt judged, but even if you haven't, I bet you judge yourself.  I lose my temper, I fail to complete basic tasks.  I fail to complete the extra tasks.  I am not a pinterest mom.  I lose count of the ways I fall short, which is probably a failing in itself.  My girls frequently have hair that is not combed.  I miss out on chances to teach, I miss nights of scripture study.  I use bad language on occasion (like the worst word of all--STUPID!)  My children remind me when I fall short.

I can only imagine that Mary, the mother of Jesus, fell short as well.  I think it would be very difficult to raise a young child who was perfect and I developed some empathy for her in that, today.  But my true thoughts went to Mary as a mother of an adult Jesus.

Have any of you mothers had a child who became injured?  A child you watched be bullied at school?  A child who had trouble making friends?  All of these things are so much worse as a mother than they were as a child experiencing them.  I am filled with rage if someone is mean to my child.  If my baby is hurt, I have a strong desire to end that child's pain or suffering, but sometimes there is nothing we can do.  I have suffered with my babies in their sickness, in their injury, and in their hurt feelings.  I have even suffered the loss of an unborn child. (Miscarriage) I know many mothers have suffered far worse things than me.  I am not at all trying to compare.

But none of our pain or our hurt can compare to the sorrow Mary must have felt when her perfect child, a performer of miracles, a God by birthright, was taken by wicked men, sentenced to death, whipped, tormented, mocked, and then hung on a cross.  But she was there, watching him during most of this, supporting him as best she could, loving him every second of it.  She had to know the importance of his sacrifice, she had to see the brilliance of his light, but notwithstanding those things, watching this must have torn her apart.  The best mother ever, the mother of Jesus.  She is an example to me.

Murillo's famous painting of the Crucifixion, with Mary at his feet

I am so blessed in my life, on this Mother's Day and on all other days, to be a mother.  It brings me joy, it brings me pain, it brings me accomplishment and it teaches me sacrifice.  I would like to wish every single mother, and every single woman who is not a mother on this earth a very Happy Mother's Day.  To me, Mother's Day is not about growing a child in your womb, but it's about the divine spark within each woman on earth that helps to uplift us, and all of mankind.  I am so grateful for my mother, my grandmothers and my mother in law.

I hope we can all take joy today, even when we are wiping up pee, in our divine calling as mothers.  I also desperately hope we can all be a little less judgey with our friends, our neighbors and our family.  Maybe we can go a little easier on ourselves, too.  We love our kids, and we are doing our best.  I think the real title of greatest Mother of all time goes to Mary.  But I believe that we can all look in the mirror and see the very best mother for our kids every single day.

How we're failing our kids: Managing Disappointment

Today I went to school to take food to my kids' teachers for teacher appreciation week.  I decided to take lunch to my kids, too.  My second grader and my kindergartener were both thrilled.  They don't really understand why I don't do this all the time.

I took my two and three year old along with me because dad was working.  Once we reached the school, my two year old freaked out, as usual, and insisted I carry her all the way to the cafeteria.  I felt this was an understandable reaction to a strange place, so I carried her.  And two bags of food, two drinks for the teachers, a purse full of food, and drinks for the two babies.  It was not an enjoyable walk.

Food drop-off and lunch with Dora went great.  Then we waited about half an hour until my son's lunchtime.  By that point, the girls were tired and whiny.  They wanted to go home.  They were fighting over a scrap of paper--literally.

Poor Eli did not have a wonderful lunch.  Tessa was crying because Emmy wouldn't give her this scrap of paper.  I offered a finger puppet, a bracelet, a plane, candy, and another scrap of paper (the contents of my purse.)  None of these things could compare to the joy that the yellow piece of paper Emmy had would bring to Tessa.  She was not to be satisfied with anything else.  Lots of crying.  Finally, about 2/3 of the way through lunch, Emmy was waving this very amazing paper in Tessa's face and little sister snatched it, and promptly tore it in half.

Whoops.

Emmy was disappointed.  If disappointed means that she threw herself down, screaming and throwing a tantrum.  Did I mention how much I love three year olds?  Half the moms in the cafeteria were beside themselves, and I feel like most of them felt I was not doing my job as a parent.  They offered several solutions, all of which basically involved replacing the paper.

Technically this is Tessa throwing a fit here, not Emmy, but you get the picture.

I could have replaced the paper, except I think replacing the paper is what's wrong with America.

When I was little, if I was being a brat, my mom told me to suck it up.  I could cry and throw a tantrum, but eventually I'd realize that being a little brat wouldn't work.  I learned something valuable: how to manage my disappointment.  Things did not always go my way when I was growing up.  Sometimes I got a bad grade.  Sometimes a teacher didn't like me and wasn't fair.  Sometimes I had trouble finding a job.  Sometimes I just didn't get the particular princess crown I desperately wanted.

It sucks, but it's life.  And it only gets worse as you get older.

These days, the second a kid cries, mom or dad rush to provide the child with whatever caused the tears.  Every little disappointment must be avoided.  If I'm at a restaurant and my child is distressed, people rush to me, just as they did today at school, eager to help me give my child whatever his or her heart desires.

This is not okay.

Our job as parents is to prepare our children to become adults.  I recall being desperately sad in tenth grade when I did not land a significant role in a high school play.  I knew my sorrow was justified because my mom had told me about all the plays she acted in during high school.  She was a star.  Why was I a failure?  She sat me down and explained that for the several notable roles she landed, she failed to get far more.  She also explained that her school was smaller, with much laxer competition.  She told me that if I wanted to get some good roles, I needed to put in the time, work harder, and the opportunities would come.  She was right.

That was an important teaching moment that made sense because mom had already taught me that I couldn't win every time.  Children must be taught that when things don't work, they need to respond positively and then work harder, if they want better results.  If we keep giving our kids whatever they want, we are teaching them two very bad things:

1. They don't have to work because if they cry hard enough, someone will give them what they want.
2. They can throw a fit every time they are disappointed.

If you're an adult, you know these things are not true.  You have to work for anything of value, because by definition, if you don't work for it, you won't value it.  And disappointment goes hand in hand with every valuable venture.  You need to learn to react positively to disappointment, or you will never succeed in life because: NO ONE LIKES A CRYBABY!!

The next time your child starts to cry, dare to do what I did today.  Explain calmly to the child that the crying won't help.  Let them throw their tantrum until they calm down enough to  listen to your explanation.  My children know that when we are at home, if they react with a tantrum, they go to the laundry room.  I set them on the floor and close the door until they have calmed down enough to talk.  Resist the urge to give in because it's easier for you.  I know it sucks, and when you aren't at home, people's judgement is frustrating, but as a parent, you must hold the line and take the time to explain this to them now.  It will save you a lot of headache and your child a lot of heartache in the future.