While I could write a post entirely devoted to how tired, overwrought, and premenstrual I am, I’ve decided, instead, to write about Mother’s Day. I know it’s trendy, but I am a mother, and I couldn’t possibly let y’all forget that an entire day has been dedicated to me. Oh, it’s not just me? Alright, maybe some other people, but mostly me, right?
I sent my own mother a bouquet of bright, cheerful daisies, because she’s my mother, I love her, and she loves daisies. I don’t think my gratitude for a lifetime of mothering me can be expressed by any gift.
She did seem to like it when I had babies….
For Mother’s Day, I don’t want a thing. I don’t want cards, or flowers, or jewelry. Those things are spectacular, and I’m not going to turn them down, but they’re not important to me. I think it’s darling that Sassy wanted to bring me breakfast in bed, but you know what’s wrong with breakfast in bed, don’t you? Someone might wake me up for that shit. Or, I’d need to wake up, and then just loll about in bed, starving, waiting for breakfast.
On Friday, Moo went into a meltdown because she couldn’t find the gift she made at school. I held that baby close and told her I didn’t have babies so I could get gifts. Each child is a gift, albeit at some moments, more like a gag gift. When you’re cleaning finger paint art a la expensive moisturizer off your toddler’s windows, it’s hard to remember the blessing part. But still, mostly, most days, a gift.
My in-laws went shopping this afternoon, and they told me they looked for something for me, but it was too hard. It was unclear as to whether I’m too hard to shop for, or whether it was too hard to find what they were looking for, but I was all, “I don’t want a thing.” They care not.
I’m taking MIL to pick out more plants for her yard. She has the vision, and I have the skills. She is like a mother to me, as I believe I have already mentioned.
Why she is buying me a gift, I don’t understand..I asked her. She said to thank me for doing a good job with her grandkids. Oh, well, that’s nice, isn’t it? (That was a gift, right there!)
The Mister took the girls to see Iron Man and they did some shopping. Goodness knows what unnecessary, but sweet, tokens of affection they’ll give to me tomorrow.
ALL I REALLY WANT IS TO SLEEP IN.
That’s it. That’s all.
Let the mama sleep.
It’s the dream of all mothers, I suspect.