When Father’s Day rolls around each year, I’m all over it. I take my kids to the store to pick out something special for Daddy. I sit down with them to make handmade cards. Last year we painted Super Dad trophies. In other words, I make an effort to teach my children to show love and appreciation to their dad on this special day. When Mother’s Day rolls around, I don’t quite get the same effort. Last year it was the end of the day when I finally said, “You know, it might be nice to have a card or something!” and my youngest son promptly scrawled on a blank sheet of paper and handed it to me. It’s not really the same if I have to ask for it, is it? I went to bed in tears, feeling very under appreciated.

I have a great husband who is normally very thoughtful, so I don’t mean to complain. He will help me out around the house and occasionally bring me a for-no-reason gift, which I greatly appreciate! And on Mother’s Day, he usually gives me a card, which is nice. But what I want more than anything as a mother on Mother’s Day is to feel loved and appreciated by my kids, and I feel like he could be teaching them how to show me that love and appreciation.

Both of my kids are technically tweens now, and I can’t help but feel sadness that they are already pulling away just a little. I miss handfuls of yard weeds and co-sleeping snuggles. They’re into gaming, dabbing, bottle flipping, and creating YouTube videos and all sorts of things that don’t usually involve me. Most days, I feel unappreciated and even mostly unseen. I’m the backpack checker, the lunch packer, the cook, the maid, and the taxi driver. I used to be their whole world. This is a major step down. They’re growing. My brain gets it, but my heart is still holding on to the little chubby hands that used to hold mine. I’m proud of who they’ve grown into, yet desperately miss the little babies they were.

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