Mother's Day - Gifts & Inspiration

It's Sunday May 13, 2012 and it's almost here. Are you trying to come up with creative ways to surprise your mom on Mother's Day?

Mother's Day is such a special day for moms everywhere we want to find the most original and practical ways to surprise Mom on this special Sunday. Let's pull out all the stops and celebrate the day in ways that will surprise Mom and make her feel extra special.

Ways to Surprise Mom

Gift baskets are a sure way to please Mom. Give Mom a gift wrapped basket of bath goodies and candles and a love note.

Organize a nice hot bubble bath with her choice of treats ready and laid out the night before the big day.

Surprise Mom by making time for her on Mother's Day.

If you live near your mom and plan to visit her for Mother's Day, surprise her with a delicious homemade breakfast.

Start with a simple smoothie recipe and surprise Mom with an early morning fruit rush.

If your mother lives far away surprise her with a visit. Take her a scrumptious lunch made especially for her.

Take Mom to visit a neighbor, relative, or friend you know she likes.

Large families can show tribute to their mothers by getting everyone together for a surprise lunch or dinner, everyone brings a pre-prepared dish.

Plan a surprise trip, even if it's just to the local park for an afternoon picnic.

Take Mom to a special coffee shop for a decadent treat.

Take Mom to the zoo, or surprise her by going to church with her, or to dinner, or the museum, you have to take charge and make the plans.

Take a little extra time to plan ahead. It will make your Mother's Day surprise even more special and meaningful. Then, use these ideas to think of other clever ways to surprise Mom.

Happy Mother's Day to All Mothers!

The best gifts ever come straight from the heart and they are relatively inexpensive. Below are suggestions for Mother's Day gifts Mom will surely cherish.

Wash her car. Vacuum and detail the interior. Wash, detail, and wax the exterior. Fill her tank with gas -- you pay for it.

Decorate the living room/den/family room the night before Mother's Day with flowers, balloons and streamers. You can do this when Mom goes to bed. Fill one of her beautiful vases with a big bouquet of fresh flowers. Place it in the center of the room for her to see as soon as she enters the room.

These two awesome tips should bring a smile to Mom's face. And, you will probably get squashed from all the hugs.

Have a Happy Mother's Day with your mother and enjoy yourselves!

Someone who cares when others care less

Someone who encourages when others ridicule.

Someone who defends when others condemn.

Someone with patience when others are impatient.

Someone who appreciates when others fail to notice.

Someone who gives security in a world of insecurity.

Someone who is accepting when others reject.

A Mother is a friend for all time, to cherish and protect,

as her achievements will linger for generations.

~~ Author Unknown ~~

A mother is the truest friend we have,

when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us;

when adversity takes the place of prosperity;

when friends who rejoice with us

in our sunshine desert us;

when trouble thickens around us,

still will she cling to us,

and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels

to dissipate the clouds of darkness,

and cause peace to return to our hearts.

~~ Washington Irving ~~

If I could give you diamonds
for each tear you cried for me.
If I could five you sapphires
for each truth you've helped me see.

If I could give you rubies
for the heartache that you've known
If I could give you pearls
for the wisdom that you've shown.

Then you'll have a treasure, mother,
that would mount up to the skies
That would almost match
the sparkle in your kind and loving eyes.

But I have no pearls, no diamonds,
as I'm sure you're well aware
So I'll give you gifts more precious
My devotion, love and care.

Author Unknown

Generally the man with a good wife,

or the woman with a good husband,

or the children with good parents

discover too late

the goodness they overlooked

while it was in full bloom.

Grandmothers are mothers who are grand,

Restoring the sense that our most precious things

Are those that do not change much over time.

No love of childhood is more sublime,

Demanding little, giving on demand,

More inclined than most to grant the wings

On which we fly off to enchanted lands.

Though grandmothers must serve as second mothers,

Helping out with young and restless hearts,

Each has all the patience wisdom brings,

Remembering our passions more than others,

Soothing us with old and well-honed arts.

"M" is for the million things she gave me,
"O" means only that she's growing old,
"T" is for the tears she shed to save me,
"H" is for her heart of purest gold;
"E" is for her eyes, with love-light shining,
"R" means right, and right she'll always be,
Put them all together, they spell
"MOTHER,"
A word that means the world to me.

Hundreds of stars in the pretty sky,

Hundreds of shells on the shore together,

Hundreds of birds that go singing by,

Hundreds of lambs in the sunny weather,

Hundreds of dewdrops to greet the dawn,

Hundreds of bees in the purple clover,

Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn,

But only one mother the world wide over

Mothers love flowers, jewelry, accessories and all sorts of nice things. We're happy when we get them, smiling and grinning from ear to ear. That's all wonderful. But, what every mother wants most of all is:

1. Our love

2. Some great quality time together having fun enjoying each other.

3. For her children to be happy and to take care of their own needs before ours.

Mothers Day should be every day. Let's make Every Day special for our mothers and first give them #1 & #2 above.

I stopped to watch my little girl
busy playing in her room.
In one hand was a plastic phone;
in the other a toy broom.

I listened as she was speaking
to her make believe little friend
and I'll never forget the words she said,
even though it was pretend.

She said, "Suzie's in the corner
cuz she's not been very good.
She didn't listen to a word I said
or do the things she should."

In the corner I saw her baby doll
all dressed in lace and pink.
It was obvious she'd been put there
to sit alone and think.

My daughter continued her "conversation,"
as I sat down on the floor.
She said, "I'm all fed up I just don't know
what to do with her anymore?

She whines whenever I have to work
and wants to play games, too;
she never lets me do the things
that I just have to do?

She tries to help me with the dishes,
but her arms just cannot reach
and she doesn't know how to fold the towels
and I don't have the time to teach.

I have a lot of work to do
and a big house to keep clean.
I don't have the time to sit and play --
don't you know what I mean?"

And that day I thought a lot about
making some changes in my life;
as I listened to her innocent words
that cut me like a knife.

I hadn't been paying enough attention
to what I hold most dear.
I'd been caught up in responsibilities
that increased throughout the year.

But now my attitude has changed,
because, in my heart, I realize
I've seen the world in a different light
through my little darling's eyes.

So, let the cobwebs have the corners
and the dust bunnies rule the floor,
I'm not going to worry about
keeping up with them anymore.

I'm going to fill the house with memories
of a child and her mother
for God grants us Only One Childhood,
and we will never get another.

Photo Courtesy about-art-decor.com

The baggy yellow shirt had long sleeves, four extra-large pockets trimmed in black thread and snaps up the front. It was faded from years of wear, but still in decent shape. I found it in 1963 when I was home from college on Christmas break, rummaging through bags of clothes Mom intended to give away.

"You're not taking that old thing, are you?" Mom said when she saw me packing the yellow shirt. "I wore that when I was pregnant with your brother in 1954!"

"It's just the thing to wear over my clothes during art class, Mom Thanks!" I slipped it into my suitcase before she could object. The yellow shirt became a part of my college wardrobe. I loved it.

After graduation, I wore the shirt the day I moved into my new apartment and on Saturday mornings when I cleaned. The next year, I married. When I became pregnant, I wore the yellow shirt during big-belly days. I missed Mom and the rest of my family, since we were in Colorado and they were in Illinois. But that shirt helped. I smiled, remembering that Mother had worn it when she was pregnant, 15 years earlier.

That Christmas, mindful of the warm feelings the shirt had given me, I patched one elbow, wrapped it in holiday paper and sent it to Mom. When Mom wrote to thank me for her "real" gifts, she said the yellow shirt was lovely. She never mentioned it again.

The next year, my husband, daughter and I stopped at Mom and Dad's to pick up some furniture. Days later, when we uncrated the kitchen table, I noticed something yellow taped to its bottom. The shirt! And so the pattern was set.

On our next visit home, I secretly placed the shirt under Mom and Dad's mattress. I don't know how long it took for her to find it, but almost two years passed before I discovered it under the base of our living-room floor lamp. The yellow shirt was just what I needed now while re-finishing furniture. The walnut stains added character.

In 1975 my husband and I divorced. With my three children, I prepared to move back to Illinois. As I packed, a deep depression overtook me. I wondered if I could make it on my own. I wondered if I would find a job. I paged through the Bible, looking for comfort. In Ephesians, I read, "So use every piece of God's armor to resist the enemy whenever he attacks, and when it is all over, you will be standing up." I tried to picture myself wearing God's armor, but all I saw was the stained yellow shirt. Slowly, it dawned on me. Wasn't my mother's love, a piece of God's armor? My courage was renewed.

Unpacking in our new home, I knew I had to get the shirt back to Mother. The next time I visited her, I tucked it in her bottom dresser drawer. Meanwhile, I found a good job at a radio station. A year later I discovered the yellow shirt hidden in a rag bag in my cleaning closet. Something new had been added. Embroidered in bright green across the breast pocket were the words "I BELONG TO PAT."

Not to be outdone, I got out my own embroidery materials and added an apostrophe and seven more letters. Now the shirt proudly proclaimed, "I BELONG TO PAT'S MOTHER." But I didn't stop there. I zigzagged all the frayed seams then, had a friend mail the shirt in a fancy box to Mom from Arlington, VA. We enclosed an official looking letter from "The Institute for the Destitute," announcing that she was the recipient of an award for good deeds. I would have given anything to see Mom's face when she opened the box. But, of course, she never mentioned it.

Two years later, in 1978, I remarried. The day of our wedding, Harold and I put our car in a friend's garage to avoid practical jokers. After the wedding, while my husband drove us to our honeymoon suite, I reached for a pillow in the car to rest my head. It felt lumpy. I unzipped the case and found, wrapped in wedding paper, the yellow shirt. Inside a pocket was a note: "Read John 14:27-29. I love you both, Mother."

That night I paged through the Bible in a hotel room and found the verses: "I am leaving you with a gift: peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give isn't fragile like the peace the world gives. So don't be troubled or afraid. Remember what I told you: I am going away, but I will come back to you again. If you really love me, you will be very happy for me, for now I can go to the Father, who is greater than I am. I have told you these things before they happen so that when they do, you will believe in me"

The shirt was Mother's final gift. She had known for three months that she had terminal Lou Gehrig's disease. Mother died the following year at age 57. I was tempted to send the yellow shirt with her to her grave. But I'm glad I didn't, because it is a vivid reminder of the love-filled game she and I played for 16 years. Besides, my older daughter is in college now, majoring in art. And every art student needs a baggy yellow shirt with big pockets.

One good mother is worth a hundred schoolmasters.

~ George Herbert