The metaphorical carrot & Mother’s Day

This isn’t going to be a long post discussing the wonders and/or trials of motherhood.  Nor do I feel compelled to list the qualities of a good mother.  Frankly, what makes a good mother differs from woman to woman and family to family.  And if you’re already in the trenches, or are sitting in your metaphorical armchair with your metaphorical medals and battle scars, you don’t need yet another discussion about how hard the war is, and the ultimate rewards.  Honestly, if you spent yesterday too busy to sit down and appreciate being a mother because you had to get everyone to church, make sure they’re all dressed and at a minimum level of cleanliness, sat through long services, and got home only to have to make dinner (or hover around the kitchen while your husband did), then all those ultimate rewards seem like very faraway carrots dangled there to taunt you.
Of course, you probably also got some beautiful handmade cards at the least, and maybe a handmade pottery bowl that’s destined to sit on the shelf in your room looking beautifully ugly.  That was a tasty carrot, huh?

All I wanted to say, is Happy Mother’s Day.  Especially to my grandmother who I haven’t seen in years and to my mother who’s been having some hard times lately but has held strong through it with amazing fortitude.  With everything that’s happened, I’m not sure I could’ve exemplified such grace under fire.

Mom, I love you.

We love you.

And please lean on us if you find your burdens too heavy.  Besides free slave labor, isn’t that why you had kids?  To help you out when we grew up?  Well, I’m all grown up.

And I love you.

Happy Mother’s Day.

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