But first, I need to address what I have seen out there on the internets: lots of ladies who feel guilty or disappointed on Mother's Day. To those who feel guilty: seriously? Knock it off. You know what you should feel guilty about? Feeling guilty. You are probably the ones who spend all your time cleaning, cooking organic meals, and taking your kids to the park (why? When I was a kid, and bugged my Mom about being bored, she told me to go get my razor blades and play in the street. She was mostly kidding. And also, she took us to the park a lot. So I'm not making my point very well. Oh well). Listen, ladies: You've done enough. Just once, you should do like me, let the house go to crap over the weekend, eat lots of cake and candy (that your husband wasn't supposed to buy for you, because he knows about your candy problem and how you are losing your P90X momentum ), gain 4 pounds overnight (from the sugar, I guess), plug your toddler into Elmo (Mis-ter Noodle!!), light the vanilla candle your 13-year-old bought you as a symbol of his mother-devotion so you can't smell what is stewing down there at the bottom of the kitchen sink,
and spend some time on the internet. You know: Pinterest, Facebook, or some blogs. Yours, or someone else's. Alternately, you could go back to bed. I know all the other bloggers are telling you to unplug, go spend more time with your families, but if you are lucky like me, most of your kids are in school for like another week, you can't go outside because it is 107 degrees, and you just need to plant your rear in your desk chair and enjoy the silence (and the Elmo's World theme song.) You probably won't sit down again until August.
Guilty ladies, are you nervous? Let me assure you that somehow, stuff gets done. For instance, I just discovered that my just-turned-two-year-old knows all his letters. He doesn't talk, but he is a letter savant. Or maybe the other kids taught him. Who knows? All I'm sayin' is, stuff gets done, and I didn't do it. (Some stuff. Not all of it. He doesn't seem to know G.)
To those who feel disappointed on Mother's Day: seriously? Don't you see how this holiday is set up to fail? You aren't ever going to have both breakfast in bed AND a clean kitchen, both a nap AND all the small, cherubic children, both a day to yourself AND lots of wonderful grandmas with which to celebrate, or both a lie-in AND the chocolate covered strawberries they passed out in eight a.m. Sacrament meeting. Haven't we learned by now that 'having it all' was just a terrible lie inflicted on our mothers? That we can definitely have some of it, whatever part we want, really, us lucky-duck American women; but wanting it all, especially all at the same time, is miserably exhausting and will only make us angry. (Although, I will forever be grateful for the right to wear pants. Even if mine don't usually fit.) So anyhow, I suggest you, like me, play the Mother's Day you were dealt. Revel in it, even...
First of all, on Friday night, I got an almost-date. We took Jane with us to a wedding reception, where there was a photo booth and PIE. That's a good time, people.
On Saturday, Tommy remembered:
Hey! Tomorrow is Mother's Day.
We should get something for you.
Like maybe a pet?
Would you like a baby rat?
Sam made me a fantastic coupon book at scouts, plus an origami vase with tissue flowers. The coupon book is beautifully illustrated. For instance, the coupon promising breakfast in bed has a bed in profile, with an unseen hand cracking an egg onto the crumpled comforter (I don't make my bed. But I don't feel shame about it.)
Jake made me an omelette. It had cheese and bacon in it. He also sent me flowers. Like 100 of them. The ones I liked from Valentine's Day that lasted for a whole month. Then he got all the boys ready and took them all to Church at 7:30 cuz Ross has to set up chairs. Jane and I were still late. I do feel sorta bad about that. Why is 8:00 so early? Why am I so slow? Is it because I have to wrestle into the spanx?
Jane gave me earrings and a new necklace. This was just lovely. Having a daughter is very nice, sometimes. I'm not gonna lie to you.
After Church, Tommy handed me a card, which he had allegedly dictated, with his Primary teacher acting as amanuensis, which told me I looked beautiful. But then the next line said, Thank you for all that you do. The syntax seems a little fishy, no? Plus, no mention of rats. So, you know, I have to wonder about the true authorship.
Sam came out of Church bearing a flowering plant in an attractive yellow ceramic pot.
From his pocket, he produced this:
When we got home, he took the plant to his room.
I find this extremely enjoyable. Is that wrong?
After Church, we ate lunch with my Mom and relations, then drove out to Glendale to have dinner with Jake's Mom and all the Beeswax crew. Before we left, I told Ross to get Tommy to fill out one of those forms- you know, how old is your grandma, how much does she weigh, the kids are supposed to get it wrong and it supposed to be hilarious- but Ross wasn't getting the humor, and Tommy wasn't getting it at all.
Ross: Why do you like going to Grandma Beeswax's house?
Tom: To play with Coco (Coco is a wiener dog).
Ross: What color are her eyes?
Tommy: Brown
Ross: I'm pretty sure they are blue.
Tommy: No.
Me: Ross, just write whatever he says. That's the point of the exercise.
Ross: What do you do to show her you love her?
Tom: I rub her belly while she lies on the couch.
Ross: Huh?
Me: I think he's still talking about the dog.
On the way home from Glendale, Jake started playing deejay, and I asked him: Is this my Special Mother's Day Playlist? He grinned (sort of evilly), and then grew very serious.
It went something like this:
Video Killed the Radio Star (Buggles)
Super-Connected (Belly)
Seasons of Love (Rent)
Fancy Dancer (Bread)
Wildflower (The Cult)
Dancing with Myself (Billy Idol)
How was your Mother's Day?
Did you receive any live gifts?
What would be on your Special Mother's Day Playlist?
