What I Really Want to do on Mother's Day

Before I even start writing I should be clear, I love my kids.  I really, really, love them. Truly.
I just don't want to spend Mother's Day with them. 

Mother's Day isn't about me, it's about my mom and my grandmother, who at 94 is still fabulous.  It's about both my hubby's mother and step-mother, because, well, they raised him and he's pretty fabulous.

The fact that I have children doesn't matter.  My siblings (all childless) call me (because I'm the oldest) and ask, "What are we doing for Mom for Mother's Day?"

A few years ago I just decided I wasn't going to plan anything.  I mean, I'm a mom too.  And when I would ask my mom what she wanted to do, she always responded, "Oh, I don't really care.  Whatever you children plan is fine with me."

Because she thought her other children were in on the planning.

So that year, since I didn't plan anything, hubby didn't plan anything either. He thought I was planning my own Mother's Day event.  We ended up at Red Robin.  Yep, Red Robin.  With all of the other fathers who didn't plan ahead.  Nice.  We waited over an hour to eat all while crowded into a tiny booth and listening to screaming children.

I could have had this experience at home, for free.

And while I was sitting at that sticky table, wiping ketchup off one child and manhandling a second so he wouldn't crawl under the table, I thought to myself, "Hmmm, hubby goes golfing on Father's Day."

Wait a minute!

Hubby leaves his darling children on Father's Day to golf.

All. Day. Long. 

Nobody thinks daddy should be home or at a really loud family friendly restaurant.  Everyone is fine with daddy being gone for the day, because they are use to daddy being gone for the day. At work. 

So, this Mother's Day I want to leave my darling children all day.  I want to shop to my heart's content, see a movie, have lunch with a friend, or, maybe my own mom.  I want to come home late at night, after the children are asleep.  I want to come home to a tidy house, where the dishwasher is running, the clothes are folded and put away, and the stairs have been vacuumed. 

This would be the best Mother's Day gift. Ever.

Happy Mother's Day to our Birth Moms!

Today is National Birth Mother's Day.

Because I have five adopted children this is an important day for our family, but I think we should all take a moment and reflect on the choices that these brave women have made.

Adoption isn't a decision a Birth Mother comes to overnight.  It is a long process, beginning with her choosing to give birth to this child instead of abortion.  (This is an entirely different blog post, but it needed to be said.)  Birth Mom's are choosing life for their unborn child even though they themselves are in turmoil over what their own future holds.

When a birth mother chooses to place her child for adoption, she is putting the welfare of that child above herself.  It is the ultimate sacrifice.  Nine months of carrying and caring for an unborn baby while wondering about the life she desires for her child.  She has hopes and dreams for her unborn baby, just like any mother does.  At some point she decided that she isn't going to be able to care/provide for this baby the way she wants. She wants more for this baby than she is prepared or able to give at this time in her life and she makes the decision to place the baby for adoption.

Wow! 
Is there a better example of complete and unselfish love? 
I think of the sacrifice when Jesus gave his life on the cross for each of us.  He gave his life.  He died in the most painful way, so we could have eternal life.

Birth mothers sacrifice themselves for nine months and then go through the painful process of giving birth, only to place their child/baby with a family that they are completely trusting to give that child a better life. 

What an honor for my children to be loved like that.  What an honor that I was entrusted with these children by their birth mothers. 

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to all birth moms.  Your example of unselfish love is the foundation for my child's life.