I don't ever expect anyone to make a big deal of Mother's Day, my birthday, anniversaries, Valentine's Day, etc. But when they do, it's superfun and causes me to dream up all sorts of other things that I might want people to do for me on upcoming special days. Of course, it also makes me want to do more for those that I love on their special days, but the dreaming up of new ideas for me is often more predominant.
This year, Mother's Day was probably one of the best days of my 2013. I have no pictures to document this day, which is probably good, because I spent most of it in the bed, but here are the highlights:
- I was allowed to sleep quite late and the children were removed from the house during this time.
- Brian made spinach/bacon quiche and "bloody murders" as John called them, and we all ate on the back porch.
- The baby robins in the nest in the crepe myrtle outside our bedroom window became mobile enough to climb on top of each other and stretch their little wings and be cute instead of continuing to horrify me with their "feathery rat" look and their constant meeping out of begging beaks. (Meeping is a new ONOMATOPOEIA that I made up while lying in the bed listening it and being annoyed that someone else's children were calling for food while I was trying to sleep. I'll write more about this in a separate post. I'm sure you can't wait. But back to the positive ...)
- It didn't rain.
- It wasn't cold.
- I finished planting our garden in the new garden boxes that Brian crafted out of untreated cedar planks.
- I took a nap (with Sam, who successfully made it through the day without telling me that my butt stinks or spitting in my face.
- I worked out in my effort to reduce the bat wing arms that become so worrisome with the approach of tank-top season.
- We ate leftovers for dinner (i.e., I didn't cook).
- I didn't have to work after dinner, for I had already finished all my grades for the entire semester!
I'm not ashamed to say that quite possibly the best part was was #1, which, admittedly, does not involve the children. But the quiche is a close second, and I did eat the quiche with the children (none of whom had to be put in time-out during the meal), a feat that is often undervalued in the world of parenting skills. Never fear, the younger one of them had just been removed from time-out for, according to the older one, saying sock gas, butt stank, poo-poo head, and then peeing in the front yard. John told me this right after he said HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, as in, "Happy mother's day! Sam's in time-out for saying sock gas, butt stank, poo-poo head, and then peeing in the front yard." I was still in bed when he said this, and I hadn't had coffee, but even in that state, I found it to be such a wonderful example of the bittersweet nature of mothering. John then presented me with a cookbook of recipes from all the children in his 2nd grade class, and also this "Mom's Gazette" that he created about me. In case you can't make out all of the checklist items, here's a run down of those that were either NOT checked or, in some cases, checked then erased:
- brave (Each time it happens, John is mortified anew at my fear of balls and wasps.)
- considerate (See 1st paragraph of this post as evidence of this.)
- cool (Ouch.)
- cute (He checked pretty instead because both would've been overkill.)
- sweet (I agree with this one. I'm too honest to be considered sweet, but honest wasn't on the list. As an example, this morning over breakfast, I confessed to John -- as he was whining about having to do his homework in the morning, which was his idea in the first place -- that I wanted to throw a bagel at his head. I had not had coffee. I didn't throw it, of course, because I'm so smart, loving, kind, thoughtful, awesome, brilliant, and wise. Anyway, it wasn't toasted and wouldn't have hurt.)
Of course many other positive attributes ARE checked (including "cheerful," "craftsy," & "energetic" -- does the child know who his mother is?). My favorite of these are "brilliant" and "wise." You better believe I'm pulling this out the next time we have a disagreement.
Finally, I'd like to say a belated and public THANK YOU to both my own and Brian's mother, who are both terrific examples for me. I know how lucky I am to have that. You are both probably thinking that you are lucky that I even remembered to send a card, since I have, of late, been in the habit of forgetting to send cards for various special days. Please know that it's not an indication of anything other than my own disorganization. I wish I could show you more how much I appreciate what you do and have always done. And in return for all your many years of hard work, I promise that if you ever get dementia, we will allow you to eat whatever you want (especially chocolate), whenever you want while you listen to whatever music you want. (I just listened to a radio show about this, and apparently those two strategies often get good responses from people with various forms of dementia.) Not that either of you have even the slightest earliest sign of this, but still, I thought it might make you feel better just to put that out there.
And on that cheerful note -- because clearly I'm just too dadgum cheerful for even my own good -- I'll say, as always ...
May we all march onward, upward, and (more likely) sideways ...
... especially in the adventure that is motherhood.