The Methren

I love that term--it was coined by my niece Crystal years ago. She and her mom, (my sister Martie, for those of you who don't have my family tree committed to memory yet) were at my house. I don't remember exactly what happened, but I must have yelled at someone's kid (not mine). Crystal said, "I hate this, even when Mom's not around, one of them always is--they're like, you know, the Methren!" We are, and proud of it! So last week, a horrible thing happened. Craig Eidson, Amber and Crystal and Pearl's dad died. Although he and Martie are no longer married, it was still devastating. Strange, how at a time like that, you want to just rush in and fix everything. Then you do rush in, and of course, you can't fix it. You can just cry with them. But one small thing we did get to do was bring food and help clean the apartment where Craig and Crystal were living. I just hope that all the love we felt doing that will just stick to the walls and the doors and the windows and everything. I have this picture on my phone now and every time I look at it I say a prayer for them all.
I guess it's a mom thing.

Fireworks and Parades!

Mother's Day is my favorite holiday. I didn't know this until the year John and all the kids forgot Mother's Day. I am sure I had acted like it was no big deal, and I probably thought it was no big deal. But that morning when it was business as usual, waking kids up, getting clothes and food ready, and starting out for church, I started to feel sorry for myself. I mentally listed all the things I did for my children, but still told myself, after all, I was glad to make that sacrifice. I would take the high road, and not even mention it; but it was challenging when my niece/godchild Erin came over early in the morning to give me a gift. Then at church all the mothers got corsages. After lunch (I made it and cleaned it up) a family we know dropped in. She told us how she had gotten breakfast in bed, and been taken out to lunch and "look at the pretty dress he bought me!" By this time I had lost any pretense of saintly sacrifice. I could hardly speak I was so mad! I managed to be polite (I think) but after they left, I gave John "the look." He really dug himself in then, saying "well ,you're not my mother!" (I am sure I had bought his mother's present!) Without saying another word, I got up and walked down the road, kids following and crying. Later, after everyone was sorry (including me) I decided that never again would I kid anyone that Mother's Day was not a big deal for me. It's not about money--it's the honor of the thing. One year--actually the year in question--John and the kids went and dug up some lilac shoots from an uninhabited farm nearby. They planted them on the yard along the road. Those lilacs are my windbreak now, and every Mother's Day I enjoy the pretty fragrant blooms and remind myself that, after all, a 100% saintly sacrificial mom would NOT prepare her children for the real world. If I have taught my children one thing, it is that Mother's Day should be fireworks and parades for mom! Or else!