Sunday, May 9, 2010

ohhhh Mother's Day...2010 edition

I'm torn between truly documenting how i feel or only focusing on the good....i'm not a fake kind of person but at the same time i don't think its right to focus on the negative so i suppose ill blog about today but make it a little lighter then how i'm really feeling,


8:30 A.M. (after coffee) I dished wes & the kids up some muffins,fruit yogurt juice & coffee

9:00 A.M. Went on my facebook games and got cleaned up while wes & the girls watched a movie

12:00 P.M. went prancing through the house begging wes if we could get out of the house because i was getting cabin fever....

1:00p.m. i said, "well i guess if all you guys are gonna do is watch movies & play wii while i cook for you im gonna take my mom flowers & a card because i don't sit in the house this much on NON-holiday"...that's when they girls wanted to come because they didn't wanna be without me...

2:00 p.m. decided to walk around the mall and browse for mother's day sales because me & the girls love to do that :) watched a woman get arrested for shoplifting,bought Caleb super cute sesame street jammies!

4:30 p.m. asked wes if he had anything planned for dinner because i cook the remaining 364 days out of the year,he didn't.went & got a mother's day dinner to cook myself....cooked it,served it to everyone (this is where Chloe started crying because she wished she was old enough to cook so her mama didn't have to do it on mother's day) ...this is also where Hannah thanked God for her meal and asked him to put angels around her family & asked God to show daddy that it was mother's day not fathers day eeks! I love love love my princess' & prince.

7:00 mom showed up to give me a card & love & cheer me up while I made lunches for the morning.

8:30 p.m. the kids went to bed...and now im here.:)

I'm invisible.

It all began to make sense. The blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone? Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.

I'm invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney channel?' I'm a taxi to order, 'Pick me up right around 5:30, please.' I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated with honors -- but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going .. she's going ... she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read -- no, devour -- the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work. No one can say who built the
great cathedrals -- we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their
building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof?
No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.' I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand-bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.


  1. p.s. i didnt write that invisible thing, someone else sis and i thought it was insightful...i hope all the mommies had a fabulous dayyyyy

  2. IM NOT SAYING IM YOUR MOTHER,because IM ANONYMOUS LOL LOL.. but Im a mother of 5 amazing children, ( much much like the one you blogged about on your mothers Bday blog!!! ROFLMAOOOOOO...) eh hem...
    Im much the same as the aunt whom sent you the poem and the mommy who reminded you tonight that the poem was written by EXPERIENCE.. of generation and generation of "mom's" endless, countless, nameless, faceless, but oh so valued mom's...that over the decades realized, you really WONT focus or remember the "glitches" of mother's day... but long for coupon books handwritten and tissue paper remind you that your contribution, the only make selflessly,continuously, in sickness or in health, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, as if you were the first or only mom who truly ever knew what REAL love was when you looked over at your "child"the look that says HI TO YOUR INFANT WHEN A STRANGER DOESNT REALIZE YOUR LIL ONE IS TALKING TO THEM.. and your afraid they will feel overlooked so you reply HI !!! good girl/boy! the look that wishes you were really as perfect as they perceive you to be...
    and in the end of the day...or should I say... at the end of a couple decades, you realize neither you or your children have ANY memory of a glitch EVER taking place,(and if you do ..all of a sudden it's the funniest memory EVER) but the love the consistancy,the faithfulness and the Hope is what got you ALL from point 'A' to point 'B'.. and why God made the woman in the first place.. she was designed from the beginning to be complete and capable of handling the "glitches" to go to the Father and Refuel and start another day with Commitment and skill.. ( I saw that lunch you made..true skill of a Mothers touch :)there's NOTHING that took place tonight, that a good cocktail cant get you through!!!!!

  3. oh ... and P.S. IF I WAS the grandma of those Princess' and Prince??? ID THINK those are some of the most amazing spectacular magnificent "TREASURES" I HAVE EVER SEEN!!! :)IF...

  4. awwww seeee mom.(i mean ANONYMOUS)..and you.just made me feel ready to start tomorrow...and have a cocktail xoxoxoxox

  5. I OBVIOUSLY inspired myself SLLLLUUUUUURRRP!!


  7. Alright, after reading you blog and the "anonymous" comment I have tears...REAL tears; and I am inspired to be a better Mother and focus much less on myself and what I want and more on what is the best for my children and my family...My mother slaved for us and never complained, not once. Dinner was always ready, our clothes were always clean, and we were always on time. I need to be more like that.

  8. also, I love that the captcha that I had to type to post my comment was "roozybot". It sounds like a nickname you would make up for someone.

  9. That story was awesome! Love it.

  10. You know, you're a really great writer. I like what your friend wrote to you in the book she gave you...what a well-said metaphor. I am so glad I am a woman! It is probably the most difficult to me a mom, but also rewarding, in whatever way you feel.