"The Mother's Day that wasn't worth a mother ----"
At this point in the game I have accepted the fact that I will never be referred to as the nurturing mother that all children long to have. Perhaps it's because I rarely bake homemade goodies and generally serve dinner a-la-frozen-food style. Or maybe it's because the first thing I say is, "what did they do NOW?" when the teacher calls from school. It could be because if someone comes crying that they hurt themselves, but there's no obvious trail of blood, I console in the form of "suck it up - it's not like the arm is completely off."
But I did think maybe, possibly, perhaps by the Will of God Himself, I would have been doted on and served by two of the best mannered children for Mother's Day.
They came close.... if you count being woken up at 7 o'clock in the morning by a sugar-manicked teen: "MOM! MOM! Get up! You HAVE to get up! There's something in the garage - Mom - Did you hear me? There's-something-in-the-garage-and-I-think-it's-a-cat-with-rabies - MOM! GET UP!"
Shuffling through the house I actually had the perverse thought that if it really WAS a rabid cat, and I got bit, surely the staff at the hospital would allow me to sleep while they administered the IV and the series of belly shots....
But, alas, when I opened the door, there was no rabid cat. Instead I was met with two children sitting on top of my car (my youngest Dotter and my niece, about two years older), holding a plate of cookies, yelling HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY! The car had been decorated - complete with window paint declaring their undying love for me. (Let's be honest, what mom doesn't want to drive around town with 'MY MOM ROCKS' sketched in their window?)
The hoodlums, uh, children stayed up literally all night decorating the car, baking cookies (and covering them with all the cake frosting they could find), and coloring various posters with poems, sayings & pictures meant to say "Thanks, Mom, for pushing us out of your vagina and keeping us better fed and watered than all the houseplants that you've managed to kill over the years."
Once the yay-ness wore off (which tends to be quickly at only 7 o'clock in the morning) I managed to shuffle back to bed for a couple more hours of shut eye, only to be reawakened by the sibling rivalry that would define what would be known as "The Mother's Day that wasn't worth a mother ----"
We spent the day fighting over who wanted to watch "Suite Life of Zach & Cody" and who wanted to watch "Keeping up with the Kardashians."
We fought over who took the hairbrush. Not the blue one (because that was still in the bathroom). Not the black one (because that was also still in the bathroom). But the red one. Which is the best one.
We fought over who took up more room on the couch. (Ok. I get this argument - because as a kid my sister always took up more room and that just wasn't fair... but still - like I wanted to relive it.)
We fought over what was for lunch - because obviously as the mother I only made the beef stroganoff because I knew the Bean absolutely hated it. (Disregard the fact she had two helpings of it.)
When I asked if anyone would like to help me do the dishes I was met with whines and complaints that they always have to do chores and can't they just have one day where they can just relax for a change? (hmmm... what a concept....)
When I asked if anyone would like to help me do laundry I was met with disgusted looks I loosely translated to "seriously. you need psychological help, mother."
The Big V tried: practically skipping through the house while he swept or put something away. (It was a tad exaggerated next to the immobile children, but I gave him extra points for enthusiasm, faked as it was.)
I did manage to escape for an hour -- to the grocery store. Normally it wouldn't count, but the nice cashier asked me if I wanted a flower in honor of Mother's Day. I realize he was only doing his job, but tears welled up in my eyes as I said, "yes! yes! oh, I'd just LOVE a flower for Mother's Day! My kids have been horrible and this just really made my day!" I stopped short of hugging him and asking if I could adopt him and his bucket of carnations....
Late in the afternoon I announced I was going on a walk and if anyone wanted to join me they were welcome. The Big V was out since he had a softball game (which I vehemently refused to go to because I knew his mother would be there and I just wasn't up for another round of "If You Don't Get Married The Way I Say You Should Get Married Then That Means You Don't Really Love My Son.") The Bean asked what store we were going to, to which I explained I was going on a walk for the sake of walking, not for the sake of buying. To which she responded that if I wanted to I could go to an ice cream shop and buy her a smoothie if I wanted to. So, she was out. Dotter looked just like the good daughter who gets stuck doing things with Mom because no one else wants to - so I grabbed her hand and took her with me.
That was an enjoyable part of the day. We scoped out some trails next to the cemetary that had a bunch of wooden foot bridges. She liked those. And I liked seeing her smile and explore. Of course, the Bean sent me a gazillion texts telling me I should get home because she was scared being left all alone by herself... and did we stop at the ice cream shop or not?
I made tacos for dinner (but had forgotten the envelope of taco seasoning - and wouldn't you know it? Not one of my cookbooks had the recipe for taco seasoning) which actually turned out pretty good... if I just block out the part where the Bean had a complete hormonal breakdown and burst into tears convinced the Big V stuck his tongue out at her while eating.
I guess this is what Mother's Day is all about - at least in my world. A complete non-guaranteed day... but one that I'll look back on and laugh, or shake my head, when remembering... especially on those long, quiet days when the girls will be grown, expecting the best of the best days with their own children. I'll just fondly remember my time with them while waiting for their phone call: "these kids are SO selfish! I just wanted ONE DAY! However did you do it, mom?!"
But I did think maybe, possibly, perhaps by the Will of God Himself, I would have been doted on and served by two of the best mannered children for Mother's Day.
They came close.... if you count being woken up at 7 o'clock in the morning by a sugar-manicked teen: "MOM! MOM! Get up! You HAVE to get up! There's something in the garage - Mom - Did you hear me? There's-something-in-the-garage-and-I-think-it's-a-cat-with-rabies - MOM! GET UP!"
Shuffling through the house I actually had the perverse thought that if it really WAS a rabid cat, and I got bit, surely the staff at the hospital would allow me to sleep while they administered the IV and the series of belly shots....
But, alas, when I opened the door, there was no rabid cat. Instead I was met with two children sitting on top of my car (my youngest Dotter and my niece, about two years older), holding a plate of cookies, yelling HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY! The car had been decorated - complete with window paint declaring their undying love for me. (Let's be honest, what mom doesn't want to drive around town with 'MY MOM ROCKS' sketched in their window?)
The hoodlums, uh, children stayed up literally all night decorating the car, baking cookies (and covering them with all the cake frosting they could find), and coloring various posters with poems, sayings & pictures meant to say "Thanks, Mom, for pushing us out of your vagina and keeping us better fed and watered than all the houseplants that you've managed to kill over the years."
Once the yay-ness wore off (which tends to be quickly at only 7 o'clock in the morning) I managed to shuffle back to bed for a couple more hours of shut eye, only to be reawakened by the sibling rivalry that would define what would be known as "The Mother's Day that wasn't worth a mother ----"
We spent the day fighting over who wanted to watch "Suite Life of Zach & Cody" and who wanted to watch "Keeping up with the Kardashians."
We fought over who took the hairbrush. Not the blue one (because that was still in the bathroom). Not the black one (because that was also still in the bathroom). But the red one. Which is the best one.
We fought over who took up more room on the couch. (Ok. I get this argument - because as a kid my sister always took up more room and that just wasn't fair... but still - like I wanted to relive it.)
We fought over what was for lunch - because obviously as the mother I only made the beef stroganoff because I knew the Bean absolutely hated it. (Disregard the fact she had two helpings of it.)
When I asked if anyone would like to help me do the dishes I was met with whines and complaints that they always have to do chores and can't they just have one day where they can just relax for a change? (hmmm... what a concept....)
When I asked if anyone would like to help me do laundry I was met with disgusted looks I loosely translated to "seriously. you need psychological help, mother."
The Big V tried: practically skipping through the house while he swept or put something away. (It was a tad exaggerated next to the immobile children, but I gave him extra points for enthusiasm, faked as it was.)
I did manage to escape for an hour -- to the grocery store. Normally it wouldn't count, but the nice cashier asked me if I wanted a flower in honor of Mother's Day. I realize he was only doing his job, but tears welled up in my eyes as I said, "yes! yes! oh, I'd just LOVE a flower for Mother's Day! My kids have been horrible and this just really made my day!" I stopped short of hugging him and asking if I could adopt him and his bucket of carnations....
Late in the afternoon I announced I was going on a walk and if anyone wanted to join me they were welcome. The Big V was out since he had a softball game (which I vehemently refused to go to because I knew his mother would be there and I just wasn't up for another round of "If You Don't Get Married The Way I Say You Should Get Married Then That Means You Don't Really Love My Son.") The Bean asked what store we were going to, to which I explained I was going on a walk for the sake of walking, not for the sake of buying. To which she responded that if I wanted to I could go to an ice cream shop and buy her a smoothie if I wanted to. So, she was out. Dotter looked just like the good daughter who gets stuck doing things with Mom because no one else wants to - so I grabbed her hand and took her with me.
That was an enjoyable part of the day. We scoped out some trails next to the cemetary that had a bunch of wooden foot bridges. She liked those. And I liked seeing her smile and explore. Of course, the Bean sent me a gazillion texts telling me I should get home because she was scared being left all alone by herself... and did we stop at the ice cream shop or not?
I made tacos for dinner (but had forgotten the envelope of taco seasoning - and wouldn't you know it? Not one of my cookbooks had the recipe for taco seasoning) which actually turned out pretty good... if I just block out the part where the Bean had a complete hormonal breakdown and burst into tears convinced the Big V stuck his tongue out at her while eating.
I guess this is what Mother's Day is all about - at least in my world. A complete non-guaranteed day... but one that I'll look back on and laugh, or shake my head, when remembering... especially on those long, quiet days when the girls will be grown, expecting the best of the best days with their own children. I'll just fondly remember my time with them while waiting for their phone call: "these kids are SO selfish! I just wanted ONE DAY! However did you do it, mom?!"
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