Doing What I Love Best

Happy Mother's Day! Mine started at 12 am with a baby who still wasn't asleep, and a little boy coughing and crying in his bed with a fever of 100. I was really tired last night and I thought to myself, "great, here it goes." When I woke up this morning to find everyone well, I thought "maybe it won't be so bad." Then we couldn't find church clothes, and when they were finally found wadded up under the bed and filthy, I thought, "alright then, let's just get to church." When we got to church, late of course, because the same little boy who hadn't put his clothes in the hamper threw a fit about wearing his suit coat that was a little short to cover up his filthy white shirt, I thought, "at least we're here." And then while eating her piece of Sacrament bread Mary Emma threw up all over herself. I got Mary Emma cleaned up as best as possible, and then practically had to tackle the deacons in order to get the water, I sent Camilla up to sit with another family, grabbed Hyrum and Mary and set off for home before she could throw up again. I went back after church to pick up Camilla and she wasn't there. She had told the family she sat with that they needed to take her home with them. However, I didn't know that. Although I figured something like that had happened, and I felt calm and comforted by the spirit, still I was looking for her for half an hour before it finally got back to me that is what had happened. They decided to keep for the rest of the day to give me a break, and Mary Emma slept all day and so Hyrum and I spent a lot of time together.

It was a good day because I was doing what I love best. My dear husband who always feels so helpless over there in Iraq tries to instill in the children the idea that presents don't have to come from the store, but can be nice things that you do to help. My Mother's Day gifts didn't come from a store this year (although I did pick up my flower after church while hunting for my daughter). It's rare that I get to spend quality one on one time with Hyrum. He's the middle child and for the last two years I've been homeschooling one sister while trying to keep the other sister from destroying my house. What a gift to just spend some time with him where he didn't have to share my lap with anyone else. What a gift to have Camilla come home from a day of playing with friends, and give me a big hug and tell me how much she missed me. It's good to be missed. What a gift it was when Mary Emma was finally able to keep down a piece of toast and I was the one who got her first smile of the entire day. And now to go in their room and see three of the most important people in my life, safe in their beds, well taken care of, and loved, I think to myself, "It's been a good day because I have done what I love the best, and that is being your mother."