The morning of Mother's Day I heard my kids in the kitchen at 6.30 a.m.
Normally they aren't allowed out of bed until 7 a.m., but in my sleepy haze I realized it was Mother's Day and didn't say a word. I just listened.
I could hear their fervent whispering. Something being chopped. Then the excited pitter patter of little feet as they rushed to my room and announced breakfast was ready.
I rolled out of bed, thanking them and praising them for their thoughtfulness. I videotaped our walk to the kitchen and focused the camera in on my breakfast: chopped apple with yogurt and a plate of baby carrots that spelled "I love you."
Of all the things I've done in my life, my two boys are by far the best. As they get older and more mature, I can see how thoughtful and kind they are, how loving and sincere. These are their best qualities. They are smart and athletic, funny and sensitive, but their kind hearts are what I admire most.
I'm not sure how much of this is nature versus nurture, but I like to think I might have something to do with how they are turning out.
I'm not going to pretend they are perfect, or that I am for that matter. They fight and argue, hate going to bed at night, and run me ragged most days, but I have to say, their gesture on Mother's Day speaks volumes about their character. It probably also says something about how well I'm raising them, along with so much help from everyone else in their lives.
As the years go by, I'm afraid I'll forget how amazing they were when they were just seven and eight. Memories will get stacked on top of other memories, and this one will get buried at the bottom of the pile.
But I will remember how it felt to be recognized by my boys on Mother's Day. I will remember how full I felt with pride and joy. It's not about the presents or how much money is spent. It was the simple gesture—a cut up apple and plate of carrots—that meant the world to me.
How did you spend Mother's Day? Do you remember any Mother's Days that were particularly special?