An Open Letter to My Kids After Mother’s Day

To My Wonderful Kids,

You are loved beyond description. Becoming a mother thirteen years ago has forever changed my life, and I’m so thankful the Lord chose me to be your mom. I have loved every single stage—cooing newborn, busy toddler, the sporty grade school years, and now we even have a teenager in the house. You have been the Lord’s greatest gift to your father and me. I mean that.

That being said, let’s talk candidly for a minute about Mother’s Day. Please know I write this with complete love, sprinkled with a touch of sarcasm—which you know to be my love language and the core of the dual language program your father and I value.

One of the favorite things we would receive this time of year was the wonderful school project wherein kids fill in the blank with adjectives describing their moms. And each year I grabbed this laminated beauty with anticipation (and slight angst) to see what pearls you documented for me. And then, upon reading it, I wondered if you’d ever met me. Even now, when you answer basic questions about me, I think, “Are you new to our home?”

When you were two or three, it was quite charming. When you were four or five, it was still slightly endearing. But now as you reach the middle age of childhood, I’m starting to wonder if there is something wrong with you. So, being a problem solver (which, by the way, you’ve never listed), I’ve decided to make a checklist to help you (and perhaps your colleagues) with future Mother’s Day projects.

  • My eyes are not brown.
  • I do not like to workout.
  • My favorite food never has been, nor will ever be, vegetables.
  • My hobby is not laundry.
  • If I had extra time, I would not sweep.
  • Although my “favorite thing to do is sleep” might be accurate, that’s not helpful.
  • “My Mom is good at” being bossy is not answering the question as the author intended.
  • I am not in my fifties (yet) (neither am I fourteen, though I appreciate the sentiment).
  • My “job” is not cleaning our house, talking on the phone, or buying groceries.
  • Your favorite meal I cook is not meant to be rhetorical, so please list something.

Oh, and when you illustrate the picture of me—let’s not be so literal. The intent behind this exercise is to show appreciation and love, not provide a reality check on an annual basis. Please do not read this letter as a subtle cry out for you to rise up and call me blessed. But I would love for you to at least know that I went to college (not to mention law school) and still have some basic abilities outside of the domestic realm.

So my sweet kiddos, you make me laugh every single day, and I’m so thankful to have the greatest title in the world—Mom. I pray for you daily and cannot wait to see the great things the Lord has in store for you. My prayer for our family this year is that we will delight ourselves in the Lord so that he can give us the desires of our heart (Psalm 37:4). You are going to do great things someday, but for now let’s rethink the Mother’s Day rhetoric. You will understand and thank me someday.

I love you!


Your green-eyed, organized, likes to ski, hosts lots of fun parties, funny, and musically inclined Mom