Emily's Family Photo

by Emily Buckley, editor-in-chief 

For weeks my 6-year-old twins have counted down the days until we would celebrate Mother’s Day with a tea party in their Kindergarten classroom. Without exaggeration, I believe I have heard nearly as much excitement about this special event as I did before their own birthday this year.

I love that we set apart a day every year to celebrate motherhood. I was given the gift of a selfless and loving mother who was humble and kind, and gave every ounce of energy she possessed to her eight children and husband. Then, when she passed away, another loving, hardworking and beautiful woman entered my life as a mother. I have six sisters who I also celebrate on this day as each of them helped raise me. This holiday holds an even more special place in my heart now than it did a decade ago because of the five precious girls who have made me a mom. I love the crayon-colored cards and cereal-and-string cheese breakfasts that they pour their hearts into preparing. Motherhood is a gift, and it is simply the greatest job I have ever had.

The name “mom” is not always easy to come by. Some of us suffer through infertility, others through miscarriage or loss of a child all while others are exhausted by the duties of a house full of little ones or from staying up late to see their teenagers arrive home safely after a night out. Whether you are in the trenches of raising babies, are suffering a loss or have emptied your nest and are celebrating grandmotherhood, this day is for all of us.

There is not often immediate gratification in motherhood. It is hard. Harder than anyone ever tells you it will be. There is no one patting you on the back for changing a dirty diaper without getting “it” on the onesie or remembering whose turn it is to have the pink cup at breakfast, and there is no award for getting all of the laundry put away before the kids come home from school (only to throw their dirty clothes on the floor!) or for keeping everyone’s soccer, piano and gymnastics schedule straight. Our rewards come in the form of hugs after putting a bandage over a scraped knee, a doodle on a torn sheet of paper that says, “Thank you, Mommy, for being my friend” or a big smile showing off a great score on a test after hours of studying.

I hope you, mothers, feel loved and appreciated this Sunday. Hug your children and know that they are your reward.