Congratulations to Dee and Melany for winning my “Best Mother’s Day” story contest. Melany won because her story made me laugh, and Dee won because anyone who survived that kind of a Mother’s Day without a permanent twitch deserves something. Both women will be receiving a signed copy of my book, The Official Soccer Mom Devotional, an e-copy of my teen book, Wag the Mouth, and a Starbucks card. Happy Mother’s Day ladies and thanks for sharing! Here are the winning stories below:

Mother’s Day Memory

by Melany

One year when the kids were little my husband allowed each of the kids to select a gift for me on Mother’s Day. Zach chose a blue necklace and Josh chose weiner dog earrings. I can’t say why - I don’t like weiner dogs.  Of course I wore the ugly little dogs on my ears every so often. This past year, I went to my son Josh’s high school group Mother’s Day celebration. The MC asked who had received the worst Mother’s Day gift. There was a dead silence as all the ‘good moms’ would never say they’d received a ‘bad’ gift. Josh whispered into my ear, “Weiner dog” and I raised my hand and told about my earrings. We won the prize - a lovely spa kit. Josh was bragging about how he had given me the best gift. I still had the earrings - so I wore them to church the following Sunday.

Mother’s Day Memory

by Dee

My most memorable Mother’s Day was celebrated in 2004.  A seemingly spur-of-the-moment idea, Mark and the kids decided I needed a nice picnic lunch up in the mountains.  Great idea!  Very me and very wonderful.  I was all for it.  I should have gotten a clue as too how unplanned this event was when we got home and leftover pretzels, potato chips, a package of lunch meat, a chunk of cheese, and water bottles were slung into the back of the SUV.  Included in the packing list were a smelly tarp, an old blanket and some guns for squirrel hunting.  Remember, this is supposed to be Mother’s Day…my day.  We head out to the canyon a few miles from the house and begin winding our way toward Lake Isabella next to the foaming Kern River .

My husband being my husband, we had to find the most remote, least populated place on the planet, so we took a dirt path called “ Cow Flat Road .”  After a few wrong turns – which included carefully backing the 4-Runner off a foot path scaling the side of a mountain – we set up our “picnic” in a mountain meadow.  Out came the guns and the squirrel shoot began.  Across a small ravine a group of cows gathered to watch our progress.  I guess they wanted to spend their Mother’s Day uniquely, as well.

The blazing sun, late hour of the day and lack of water – our limited supply quickly ran out – forcing us back into the car to continue our trek.  Instead of heading back the way we came we decided to travel on because “the road has to come out somewhere…”  Actually, Mark knew where it came out.  He just misjudged the amount of time it would take to get there.  By hours. We rumbled slowly across the rocky, dry, narrow mountain road.  Excitement to be had in all facets of the trip, at one point we drove over a rattlesnake that wasn’t injured and had opportunity to climb up into our wheel well.

When it was dark, our snack food gone and we finally arrived in Bodfish. Mark told us we would have a nice meal in a little diner he knew of.  (First stopping off in the nearby park so the kids could play on the memorial tank and cannon displayed there…)  Upon arriving at said diner, not only was the restaurant about to close, it also didn’t take Visa.  I didn’t have my purse.  Mark’s wallet was about as bare as Mother Hubbard’s cupboard.  We scrounged together what change we could.  The four of us had shakes and a serving of fries to share.  We headed home – taking the FREEWAY this time and put two very happy children to bed.

Squirrel hunting, rattlesnakes, heat stroke and starvation are not my idea of the perfect Mother’s Day celebration.  But, I must say, I will never forget it.