This week's HK blog topic:
Now that Mother's day is past, look over your Mother's Days as a child.
Which one stands out most to you and why?
Although I do have very specific memories of my childhood, annual occasions like Mother's Day and Thanksgiving tend to meld together into a happy mish-mosh of compressed years and family traditons. I can't tell you what happened in a single Mother's Day, but I know what we always did for Mother's Day:
On Mother's Day, my mom always got breakfast in bed. When we were younger my dad would make the breakfast while we "helped". As I grew older, we took over making the breakfast, and Dad got breakfast in bed, too. We usually made a fairly elaborate meal, with pancakes, eggs, bacon or sausage, and fruit. And we all joined Mom and Dad in their bedroom for breakfast, hauling in the high chair for the baby and eating our picnic meal scattered around their bed on the floor.
Mom loved our homemade cards. Mom always loved our drawings, and made a practice of not keeping coloring books in the house. She much preferred creative drawings to us keeping in the lines.
We always had church to go to on Mother's Day. And there would be the inevitable sermon on motherhood, and a carnation handed out to all the mothers in the congregation.
So much of what I remember fondly from my childhood was the predictibility of our lives. We always celebrated Mother's Day by breakfast in bed and homemade cards. Other things happened some years, like Dad grilling our dinner after church or us going out for a meal as a family. But the framework of tradition was solidly in place.
One of my passions as a mother is giving my children that same security. Our family's traditions are not all the same as the traditions I grew up with, or the traditions of dh's family. We're creating our own traditions and memories. I love listening to my three bigs talk in anticipation about upcoming holidays and events and reminisce about the past. They begin by saying, "We always..." And I smile.