The Best Mother's Day Ever.

Yesterday was the best mother's day ever.  I woke up happy.  Truly happy.  My best friend (in her pregnant glory) was sleeping on the couch, the twins were chattering away, and my sweet baby was a year old.
 
We woke and got ready for church.  Yesterday was my "presentation" for our church.  I'm in the middle of editing the video of it - so hopefully I can get it up later today.

During the service - I looked out.  My childhood friends were in the pews.  My childhood "second mother" who babysat me and instilled great values in me sat in a back pew.  The "second mother" to my children - their own babysitter sat with her family in a pew toward the front.  Our friends and family were there to support us.  We are beyond blessed by the amount of support we receive.

But a mini miracle happened last night.  I wish I had my camera with me to capture this moment... but I didn't.  I wish I had a video camera to show everyone what Alexander did... but I didn't.

Instead I have this silly photo.

Yes, you are looking at the picture of a banana.  Because the part of the banana that is missing Alexander ate.  ATE. not mashed up. I cut it into quarters by length.  And he ATE EACH PIECE.  He chewed the pieces up and swallowed them.  What a wonderful end to a beautiful day.

I had one more surprise when I went to go back to bed.  On my pillow Ray had placed this essay.  I like this one a million times better than the Welcome to Holland essay.  Not only was it a beautiful essay to read on Mother's Day ~ it was such a kind gesture from my husband.  Sometimes I think it is easy for us to feel overlooked. (Isn't that what Mother's day is really all about anyway?)

 

It was the perfect gift for Mother's day... Acknowledgement. 

 Here is a copy of the essay:

The Special Mother

by Erma Bombeck

Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures and a couple by habit.

This year nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children. Did you ever wonder how mothers of handicapped children are chosen?

Somehow I visualize God hovering over earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As He observes, He instructs His angels to make notes in a giant ledger.

"Armstrong, Beth; son. Patron saint...give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."

"Forrest, Marjorie; daughter. Patron saint, Cecelia."

"Rutledge, Carrie; twins. Patron saint, Matthew."

Finally He passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a handicapped child."

The angel is curious. "Why this one God? She's so happy."

"Exactly," smiles God, "Could I give a handicapped child to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel."

"But has she patience?" asks the angel.

"I don't want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wears off, she'll handle it."

"I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has her own world. She has to make her live in her world and that's not going to be easy."

"But, Lord, I don't think she even believes in you." God smiles, "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect - she has just enough selfishness." The angel gasps - "selfishness? is that a virtue?"

God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a 'spoken word'". She will never consider a "step" ordinary. When her child says 'Momma' for the first time, she will be present at a miracle, and will know it!"

"I will permit her to see clearly the things I see...ignorance, cruelty, prejudice....and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life, because she is doing My work as surely as if she is here by My side".

"And what about her Patron saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in mid-air.

God smiles, "A mirror will suffice."