Tabitha was born April 8th and a month later on Mother’s Day morning when I came into our kitchen, my husband, Randy had put her, all dressed up and strapped in her baby carrier, in the center of our kitchen table along with a bag of Hershey kisses and a dozen red roses. Even now the memory of it evokes a blissful thrill.
It seemed so surreal to me. Mother’s Day was a holiday for mothers. A day I gave gifts, and never imagined I would celebrate on the receiving end. Part of me was still in awe as how at the hospital they just handed over this precious intimidating creature and assumed I would know what to do with her. My qualifications were less than any teenager I ever hired to babysit my children.
Yet, somehow I’ve managed to muddle through. While I could pretend it’s my exemplary mothering skills the truth is sometimes mothering is a crap shoot, but when it comes to crap…I’ve always been lucky. Besides I’ve learned to wear rubber boots and how to shovel.
So when my son Jordan told me I didn’t know how lucky I was to have a son like him, as compared to most other 18 year olds. I pretty much told him the the reason he turned out so well was due to my exemplary mothering skills and said, “you are so lucky.”
Gosh, but it’s moments like that I really love being a mother. The chocolate cake my daughter baked me tonight for Mother’s Day doesn’t hurt either…once again she’s managed to evoke another blissful thrill.
Hope all Mother's feel as lucky as I do. Happy Mother's Day.
