Mothers Day is fraught with emotional landmines. Advertising in print, on websites, radio and t.v. reminds everyone to go out and buy x, y or z to show how much you love your mom. And it's a guaranteed fact that on the day after Mothers Day, if a card or gift or random act of kindness wasn't shown or delivered, there will be tears. Lots of them.
Okay, maybe not. But I remember my first Mothers Day. It wasn't my kind of pretty.
Daniel had been a youth pastor for almost two years. I had given birth to our firstborn son, Joshua just after Christmas. As May rolled around I was eagerly anticipating what Daniel might do to celebrate this Hallmark occasion. Maybe he'd get me a box of See's chocolates--my favorites. Or perhaps he'd have a bouquet of flowers sent to the house. And I wondered what kind of mushy card he might buy because, of course, this was a whole new adventure he and I had embarked on--starting our family and becoming parents. And I had to think on the practical side because we didn't have much money then. So I reminded myself that I shouldn't expect too much this first time. And, Sundays are work days for pastors, so perhaps Daniel will have to be proactive and leave a card on the kitchen table for me on that special day before he heads off to church. I had a little kid kind of glee grow inside me as I thought about the different ways Mothers Day could happen for me.
I brought Josh to church and after the service was over got a few "happy Mothers Day!" from friends and family. I spied corsages on a couple of friends who also had recently had babies . I thought how sweet that their husbands did that for them. Maybe Daniel was going to get a bunch of flowers from a local flower stand on his way home from church. Yeah, that's what he's probably going to do.
When Daniel arrived home sans flowers, chocolates or an invitation for lunch out, I began to leak. I was holding on to shreds of hope so I asked if he was planning anything for Mothers Day--like taking me out for a late lunch or dinner. Then time began to move very slowly and I heard him say "blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, why would I get you something for Mothers Day? You're not my mother." I thought his tone of voice was shockingly innocent and he sounded genuinely honest in asking that question.
Then my brain went on autopilot while I first began to fall apart and then get angry. How could he be so insensitive as to forget all about me---the new mother of his firstborn child! Sure, I know that I am not your mother, but I am the mother of YOUR son. I didn't get resistance, I got reasoning.
After a lot of ugly crying and trying to reason and explain back and forth, Daniel taught me something that, up until that point in life I'd never caught and through our marriage I've had to learn over and over again: unmet expectations lead to disappointment and frustration. I wasn't voicing what I wanted or expected. Instead, I was hoping he would "do the right thing" and plot and plan the craziest, bestest first Mothers Day for me--ever!
And can we all just acknowledge that ALL unmet expectations lead to ugly crying?!