Not world peace. That would be nice. Just peace. And quiet. It’s not hard really. Is it?
I will admit, my children are older now. They are very good at entertaining themselves. They usually are off at a friend’s house, stuck in a book, watching a show, at school, whatever. So I have it good. But sometimes on weekends when the whole family is together, it gets a little dicey. There’s bickering. Snide remarks. Insults under the breath (ARGH, I hate that!) and sometimes tears. Usually by the boy after the girl tells him he’s a stupid boy that needs to go away. She can get a little nasty sometimes. She’s in training to be the perfect mercurial moody woman. But there’s also times when they are the best little angels. I mean really. They can be so sweet to each other. Mostly on my special days- like birthdays and Mother’s day, they know to be nice. They have even written a contract some years. I’ll be pulling out the contract again this year.
But back to Mother’s Day. MY Mother’s Day. I will not let myself feel guilty for wanting a real Mother’s Day. Why not?? I deserve it dammit!
I’ve learned over the years how to play the Mother’s Day game. I am so blessed and lucky to have my mom. I have my mother in law nearby as well. So in the years of early motherhood, I was the pleaser. I tried to please them and try to have it all but in the end, just got frustrated. Mother’s Day sucked. So now, I spread it out. I have the ability to have time with my mom on one day. And then usually the Saturday before Mother’s Day Sunday, we can all go down to my in-laws and do the grandma thing where she can revel in the children, they can make her feel special, and everyone’s happy.
So I’ve come up with some Mother’s Day options to pick from for myself:
There’s the Fantasy Mother’s Day; Daniel Craig brings me tea on a tray while he’s wearing Speedos and tells me I’m the new Bond girl and he needs to take me to the set in Istanbul the next morning on the studio’s private jet. Hmmm, not sure about this one. That would confuse the children greatly why James Bond is barely clothed in our house and daddy’s scooping the cat box. They might need therapy. Maybe scratch that idea.
There’s the I’m Tired of Being Around My Kids Mother’s Day; You spend the whole day at a spa and don’t come home until they are tucked in bed. As great as this sounds, this is hard since it’s on a Sunday and I don’t know many spas around with those hours. Also- very confusing to the children. It is, after all, the day I’m celebrating my motherhood which only is because of their existence. Probably another reason for therapy in their adult years.
There’s the I’m Such A Wonderful Mommy I Want To Spend The Whole Day With My Kids Making Flower Pots and Ceramic Tiles and Go to A Petting Farm Mother’s Day. Well, this just wouldn’t do because it would drive me batshit crazy and I would be exhausted and one of us (me) will end up in tears.
Then there the balance of the second and third choice. The Please Just Pick Up Your Shit, Be Nice, Let Me Sit And Drink A Cup of Tea Without It Getting Cold and Make Me A Meal Mother’s Day. YES!! Ding ding ding ding. We have a winner!
This is the Mother’s Day I want.
It’s not that hard. It just takes a little pre-planning.
It will go something like this-
Wake up to smiling faces and a hot cup of tea brought to me in bed. I don’t even need a gift- just the hand made cards will do. Oh wait- I already took the kids to Target to buy my Mother’s Day cards, so all they have to do is sign them. How easy is that?? I didn’t look at the cards, in case you are wondering. Just for that fabulous gesture on my part, my husband should really buy me a yellow diamond pendant. Because when I say I don’t want a gift I am totally lying. I always want gifts. Who am I, a monk?? Gifts. Please!
We will get ready and go to church. On time. No fighting. No whining about shoes that don’t feel right. No rolling eyes because church is boring. Just get in the car, keep your mouth shut and sit in church dammit!
We will then go somewhere to dine. It doesn’t have to be a fancy schmancy four course brunch or super uber expensive brunch buffet. Which I never eat my money’s worth anyway. It just needs to be someplace that isn’t IHOP or Applebees. If they wanted to cook, I would be okay with that. (Again, another lie. I would SO not be okay with this) My husband doesn’t cook and then I would end up doing the cleaning up or getting annoyed with how he’s using the wrong spatula on the non-stick skillet. You know what I mean? So just getting out of the house is probably best for all.
After we’ve dined, I might just read a book for the rest of the afternoon. Curl up and watch James Bond DVDs with the boy. Maybe it will be sunny and I can lounge out on the deck.
There will be no last minute scramble to get homework done, PE uniforms in the wash, rushing out to buy poster board at the office supply store, scrambling to make a video for math class that needs to be uploaded to YouTube or any other hasty hurried spur of the moment thing forgotten by either offspring.
Dishes will be put in the dishwasher. Toilet paper will be replaced on the roll- squares going OVER, not under. Towels will be hung up on towel racks after showers not to be found later in a mildewy damp pile. Socks will be put in the hampers.
This isn’t too much to ask. It can be done. The other 363 days (my birthday is the other ME day) I will handle the chaos, messes and emergencies. But not Mother’s Day. It’s just one day. One day. That’s all I ask.