...When You Crown Your Mother

Most days I feel like a terrible mother.  I either yell too much.  Or serve bad meals.  Or don't play enough.  Or forget all the house chores.  Or... who am I kidding? -- it's usually all of the above.  However, the other night, the kids were all tucked in, and I hear, "Mom!  Mom!"  Entering the bedroom, I can tell that they are all very upset about something.  "Mommy, we're scared.  What if the bad guys from Moses come and take our baby away to kill her?  Mommy, you need to give us holy water.  Lucy needs holy water!"  In the midst of my reassuring words that Jesus, Mom and Tot, and all the angels were protecting our baby, I, too, was reassured that something in my mothering must be clicking; because, in this moment, my children were portraying a deep connection both with their siblings as well as their faith.

In the way that Time always plays her tricks, April has come and gone.  We welcome May, the month of flowers, the month for mothers, and the month of our Holy Mom.  Having a new little life in our home to learn and to love, to cuddle with and care for, to hold and behold, encourages me to reflect upon the gift of motherhood.

My motherhood actually began with my experience of my own mother.  I remember all of us huddling on the couch, side-by-side, up above, and on laps, to listen to her read our favorite books like Stand Back Said the Elephant, I'm Going to Sneeze.  Sometimes we'd have to nudge her in between pages.  "Mom!  You fell asleep!"  Bleary-eyed, she'd force herself back into a wide-eyed state to finish the book.  Only now, when I feel the tap-tap and hear the Mom-Mom from my own kids, do I re-visit that memory with a fresh realism: there my mom was, squished on the couch, reading the same book for the twelfth time, nursing a newborn, and probably wishing we'd all just take a nap.  But, she kept reading.  Day after day, year after year. 

There are so many sacrifices I know my mom made for us, so many good examples she set, so much hard work in place.  Today, in my motherhood, I'd like to especially thank my mom for two things: Mom, thank you for raising me in faith, and thank you for my seven siblings.

On Faith
From an early age, my parents had us plugged into all types of Christian environments and communities.  I never got Girl Scout badges.  Instead, I earned Awana badges.  Every summer we went to VBS... sometimes more than one.  We experienced Bible studies and Lord's Days in our home, while seeking fellowship in City of the Lord and Life Teen programs.  Though it was our dad who led us through Bible studies and Passovers, it was our mom (and Psalty the Singing Song Book) who helped us connect with Jesus on a deeper level in our youth. 

Bedtime rituals often included devotional series.  One week, we might read through a book of angels.  Another week we would focus on moral dilemmas, using What Would Jesus Do?  While our dad led the adult Bible studies in the family room, my mom ushered all the children into the living room for a children's Bible study.  One summer, we performed a play and educational experience on Naaman for all the neighborhood kids.  Mom showed us that if she could cram all eight of us into a pew each Sunday by herself, we ought never to have an excuse to miss Mass in our adulthood.  We learned that faith was both an experience as well as a way of life.  It could mean hard work, but that encounter with God was worth it all.

On Siblings
We did everything together growing up.  We spent summers playing Risk, Monopoly, and Fortune 500.  We traded chores.  We made secret knocking codes on the wall to communicate between rooms at bedtime.  We laughed at the slowest sibling during swim lessons.  We formed clubs.  With theme songs.  We complained about piano lessons and washing dishes after spaghetti dinners.  We fought over the Super Nintendo controllers.  All the time.  To the point where we would set alarms in the morning during the summer, in order to claim a controller. 

As a mother of (only) four kids, I'm beginning to get a glimpse into my mom's life of raising eight.  It's hard to imagine twice the number of diapers, meals to prepare, and laundry to fold.  Double the amount of sleepless nights and fights to break up.  Then, add an extra three years of being pregnant.  However, being one of those eight kids, I am so grateful for those lasting, meaningful, love-fight relationships.  Her openness to life gifted me with seven wonderful siblings here on earth and one I look forward to meeting in heaven.

Thank you, Mom, for your sacrifices.  Thank you for these priceless gifts.  This Mother's Day, I want to crown you!

Gus turns two... tomorrow!

Grandma came all the way from Michigan to meet Lucy!



Lucy Margaret, born March 29



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Miri turned five!

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