Who's Day Is It?

Mother's Day.  Ugh.  Sometimes it's just that...Ugh.  I'm not sure why we gear ourselves up for the ideal.  Honestly, I don't know why I EVER gear myself up for the ideal.  I should be well aware by now that that ideal does not actually exist.  After all, it even states it in it's own definition!
 

ideal

 

i·de·al

something that exists only in the imagination: To achieve the ideal is almost hopeless.

But somehow, I find myself imaging otherwise.  We believe the children will be composed, respectful, tranquil even.  We imagine breakfast making itself.  Magic makes the dishes disappear.  We get along, we harmonize, we walk on rainbows holding hands....

Then we wake up.  And real life begins.  The baby doesn't get the memo that it's Sunday and he can sleep in.  The twins decide to begin playing pirates and princesses before the sun actually rises.  The 4 year old wants to build his trains and doesn't want a baby-sized Godzilla wreaking each piece.

And that's it. Our Utopian ideal gone like the wind.

I always make it a point to take a picture with me actually in it as little as 3 times a year.  Once on their birthdays, Mother's Day and Christmas.  At least in the years to come they can say, "Oh ya.  Mom was there, wasn't she?"  Sometimes this ends in disaster.  And sometimes this ends in tears.  My tears.  I tell myself I won't care in 20 years how horrible and large I looked.  I'll just be happy I have it.  And then I tell myself that I'm a liar and that will never happen. 

And then there are days like today.  When the photo we take ends up just as it should.  It somehow captures the essence of each child.  Of this time in our lives.  If a picture really is worth a thousand words, this one would be silent.


No one looking.  No one perfect.  One is the only one in on his own little inside joke.  One is hugging Mom so tight.  The other has had enough (and we're not even at church yet!) and sadly, his sister gets it in the face.  All the while Mom says, "Yep.  This is it.  This is our life.  Not the picture perfect magazine layout we would like you to see, but the truth as it is.  The ugly truth".

Somehow, though it's not exactly as you imagined it would be, it somehow becomes everything you need it to be.  Because that day, 20 years from now, you really WILL be glad you took this imperfect photo because it will bring with it the memories.  The good, the bad, the unimaginable.  And that's when it'll hit you.  You'd give ANYTHING to have those days back.  To have the burnt breakfast, the missing shoes, the clothes that don't fit.  Because it would be evidence that you lived.  You loved.  And somehow, despite all of the chaos, it made you better. 

So this Mother's Day, I'm happy with my below par family photo.  I'll keep it.  I may even frame it. 

Now if I can just make it to Christmas....