this day and i -we have a history

Pirate picked these out for me.

Not so very long ago Mother's Day was an incredibly painful day. I'd thank my own mother in some way or another, and then promptly cut myself off of all media outlets. I'd try very hard to pretend it was any other Sunday, only I'd ditch church. I'd nap instead, and do anything else that might distract me from the reality that as much as I wanted to be, I was still not a mother.

Come late evening, or next morning I'd venture back into the world of social media only to find that well-meaning friends had shared articles with me about how "we as women are all mothers" and if these well-meaning articles had been handed to me in paper form I would have (likely) given in to the temptation to knife them with a Sharpie before running them through a shredder. I saw Motherhood as the premier club of Womanhood. I still see it that way, honestly.

Even though those days are over, the little strings of memory are always tied around my heart especially on this day. My own wounds are just fading scars, but I am ever-aware of my Sisters in Womanhood who desperately want to be a Sister in Motherhood. My heart aches for them.

It creates an emotional kind of day. The kind of day that sits on the edge of tears. Sad tears. Happy tears. I'm so grateful for this moment tears...

Today, this particular Mother's Day, couldn't have been any better. The boys let me sleep last night. Five solid hours! And Baby gave me his first series of smiles today. Pirate brought home a darling little handmade crafty thing from church. Hubs bought be a new computer. And made lunch. And made dinner.

A thunder lightening storm is rolling through and my life is so, so good.