Happy Mothers' Day!

In 2002, my bishop asked me to give a talk on Mothers' Day. I was sick for 2 months (before and afterward). I don't know that I'll ever forgive him. I decided to do my talk the only way I knew how - by relating some "slices of real life." Here is most of the talk I gave...

You know you're a mother when…

You finally talk your little son into "coming here for a just a minute" to give you a love, then you catch him counting to 60 under his breath.

Twenty-three years later, the 3 year old daughter of that same son follows you to your car with tears in her eyes and says "Grandma, I forgot to give you a yuv."

You attend pack meeting and see your 9-year-old son awarded every possible arrow point in the Cub Scout Book, then find out as you question him at home that he forged your signature on most of them. You are broken hearted as your husband takes your son to the cub master's house to explain and apologize.

You are in the bride's room helping your daughter dress in temple robes for her imminent wedding.

You watch your little boy angrily packs all of his belongings into a black garbage bag and runs away to the neighbors’.

You read a segment of your son's letter about an especially poignant incident that happened in the mission field. The segment from the letter ends with, "I guess you had to be there." Then, through tear-blurred eyes, you write back and tell him, "No. You didn't have to be there."

You hunt for a birthday card for one of your children who has been acting so mean and ornery that you have to find a greeting that is appropriate, but doesn't lie.

You hate Mother's Day because it always makes you feel guilty.

You like Mother's Day, because it gives you the opportunity to honor the mothers and grandmothers in your life.

You get into the car to run away from home, and realize that you don't have anywhere to go…then you come back home a couple of hours later, only to find that nobody even noticed you've been gone.

You are accused of being a mother hen, and wanting to nail the feet of your children to the state of Utah.

You feel so loved when your six year old son buries his face in your lap and hugs your legs, then, as he walks away, you notice the boogers that he wiped on your dress - on purpose.

Your 9-year-old son refuses to put his dirty Cub Scout shirt in the wash, because he says "I'll never see it again." [This was back in the day when we ironed (or didn’t) clothes and they ended up in the ironing bag…waiting.]

You’ve been scouring the neighborhood for your missing 8-year-old son, then you see him dropped off in front of your home by his Primary teacher, who had picked him up off the street an hour earlier and had taken him, dirty as an orphan, to the baptism of a classmate.

You watch with pride as your son recites the Hippocratic Oath that you previously had only read about in books.

You watch as your daughter is giving birth, and step into the bathroom to pray when her baby's heartbeat drops dangerously low.

You visit the mission field of your son after he completes his mission, and you see the love that church members and investigators have for him.

You feel that when your child is late, negligent, or in trouble for any reason whatsoever - that it's YOUR fault!

You cry with your son and his wife when they have lost their firstborn child.

You rejoice with your daughter when she makes Chamber Quire.

You are awakened abruptly when your daughter pounces on your bed, breaks it, and announces that she's been kissed.

You realize when you finally see the words of the Weber Hymn in print on the back of a program, that you've been singing them wrong for 15 years! At the end of every concert, you have stood, held hands, and earnestly sung, "Of all the schools in this prostacious land, Weber, there's only you." (For you who aren't familiar with the words to the Weber Hymn - they are, "Of all the schools in this broad, spacious land, Weber, there's only you!)

You share your new cologne with your 4-year-old daughter, and laugh your head off when she says, "Mmmmm! I smell like a new woman!"

You feel a sense of family unity as you watch your husband and sons working together to build a home.

You are deeply touched when your son writes from the mission field to his dad on Father's Day, "And thanks most of all for loving Mom."