I've been dreading this day. The time when the kids are old enough to choose and give me gifts. The time when I must lovingly deceive them with smiles and superfluous gratitude for random items very likely constructed in sweat shops by underpaid workers with unsustainable (and possibly toxic) raw materials! The Wednesday night before Mother's Day, while I was studying for a test, my family came home from church, there was some type of Mother's Day bazaar where the kids could pick out gifts for their mothers. It was a sweet charitable event that our church was holding and my husband was helping to lead. He brought the kids to give me some much needed quiet time. (All of this I found out later.)

Terrible Mothers Day Gifts
Terrible Mothers Day Gifts

My son and daughter burst into my bedroom radiating excitement and screamed, "HAPPY MUFTHERS DAY", in a full and undeniably cute toddler lisp. They couldn't wait and had to give me their gifts right away.

Despite my fatigue, I was able to deliver a Oscar worthy performance of pleasure and joy. I hate to say it, but my first thought was, "damn these gifts are ugly!"

My (single and childless) sister came in behind my kids with a knowing smirk and I momentarily hated her.

One truth about motherhood, that you only come to understand through living it, is very little is just for you! The holiday and consumerism behind it ( at least for the first 20 years or so) is about others. Making them feel as though you are aware that they appreciate you! Kind of twisted, I know, but true.

RaisingSelf
RaisingSelf

At the end of the day, my true gift was the look of satisfaction, confidence and joy radiating from my son's face when he said you're welcome mommy! To know that I played my part in ensuring he doesn't doubt his status as loved and highly  valued. Then I realized the husband needs this just as much as the son, so no matter how expensive or how impractical, I am going to LOVE Daddy's Mother's Day gifts just as much!

Post Scriptum: I am re-gifting these horrid gifts and sending them to the grandmothers. I can't keep them! Thank goodness toddlers have no memory!