Mother’s Day—underneath it all, it’s just an ordinary day. This one, though, is wrapped up with a pretty bow. Get up, ooh and ahh over the effort of pancakes for breakfast that I know husband really put forth; ten minutes in, tell someone to stop saying stupid; decide that going to a park for the day would be the greatest way to spend a beautiful day because that’s what we normally do. Hugs from my kids, now those are the moments I really cherish.
Gush over the cards the kids made, the ones husband gently urged, then nagged, and then threatened them about for weeks. Daughter made hers with plenty of time to spare. Someone else slapped six words to paper and called it done. After a week of battles, who can blame him? I forced him to practice the dreaded recorder. I made him go to bed at a decent hour. I told him to please for the tenth time put his dirty underwear in the laundry room. He called me lazy and that didn’t go well, followed by a very long reminder of who washes his underwear and makes his dinner every night.
A dozen questions this week started with, “I know you’re going to say no, but…” And then I did.
The kids still give me presents, ones that teachers made them do at school but they are proud of nonetheless. Things my kids took care to hide from me, to surprise me with. I love every drawing, every bit of glue and string and paper. After, their part done, my kids run off to play Legos or get ready for the park.
Mother’s Day is just a day. For me, it’s more about the moments that aren’t forced. The times when one of the kids buries a head in my soft gut and reminds me he isn’t too old for me just yet. When I sing “You Are My Sunshine” to my daughter and her eyes fill with tears every single time. When I walk into my room and find a note that says, “Mommy you’re the best!” When the child who would never hold my hand now grabs it and doesn’t let go. When in the quiet of a new day, a sleepy boy snuggles up to me and doesn’t need to say a word.
Mom in the Muddle 
Hope you have a great day tomorrow! I look at Mother’s Day as an excuse to not do anything. It doesn’t always work, but I give it a good try. 😉
I know. I’m so glad I won’t have to do any dishes! Enjoy the day!
Beautiful beautiful post, Karen. Happy Mother’s Day.
Thanks, Elyse. Same to you.
Happy Mother’s Day! This is beautiful and exactly my sentiments. I’ll take the little moments whatever day they come. Enjoy!
It’s the element of surprise. Enjoy your day.
Happy Mother’s Day! I love this day because it’s confirmation that they don’t totally hate me. And it’s free desserts at restaurants all over town.
Free desserts?! What? Why don’t I know this?
Happy Mother’s Day! Thanks for that great info.
Happy Mother’s Day! I celebrate it every day. I remind my kids that the day I squeezed them out became the perpetual string of mother’s days that would be my life. That when my girls become mothers, and my boys fathers, they will completely understand all I put into them, and all I get out of them as well.
Sunday? Mine was spent nagging kids to put their things away as we (finally) settled completely into our new home for the long stretch. And I got some movie cuddles and, I think, a neck massage. I still had to cook for myself and everyone else, though, cause I was craving coconut curry.
Wish you well, Karen!
My kids seemed to really get it. My birthday is this week and I’ve been showered–showered I tell you–with hugs this week. My boy hugs me every time he sees me. When your son who thinks he’s too old for everything does that, it means the world. My daughter has been making me cards and notes. Among the chaos, they let me know they love me. I’ll take it!
Enjoy your new digs!
I’m also a Mother’s Day baby, only my day came and went without any fanfare last week. Strangely, my 5th grade son has been a prolific and spontaneous nugget these last few weeks. Something in the water perhaps?
Happy Birthday! And many, many more.
I always have a few days in between, never falls on the same day. Happy birthday! Go out and celebrate yourself, girl!
I think the end of the school year brings out the worst in my kids. They’re ready for it to be over. Testing looms. The beach is within reach, along with freedom.