Mother’s Day is always a disappointment. And you know that my husband is awesome and a total bad ass. I adore him. But honestly, though he tries really hard - he has yet to get Mother’s Day right. On my very first mother’s day he gave me the gift every new mom wants most, the kind you can’t wrap up with a bow or buy from a super cheesy jewelry store at the mall: sleeping in. The best gift ever. I slept until ten (after waking up with Thumbelina every hour and half) and then he served me breakfast.
- Eight uninterrupted hours of sleep in a bed with clean sheets and a comforter that no one has changed a diaper on or wiped their nose with or farted under for a few days. But really, I just want those eight those hours. I don’t care of it’s on the basement floor.
- The ability to go for a long, long walk alone with my iPod and not come home to a trashed living room or crying kids or a barking dog.
- Freedom from the shackles of my damn dishwasher for 24 hours. I don’t even want to look at it.
- To snuggle with the children and read a story without getting elbowed in the boob or told I’m reading it wrong or have someone get their feelings hurt and cry because I have yet to figure out how it is physically possible to put two arms around three kids.
- The laundry done. Just once. DONE. Suck it, Randy. (Newbies, Randy is the Laundry Fairy. He talks to me.) I know that will never happen but I seriously hate the laundry almost as much as I hate you, Randy.
- My kids not to reenact the Battle of Bull Run in our playroom while playing Super Mario Brothers.
- Twenty four hours without the ear-splitting Scream of Gondor that all three of my children unleash with little or no provocation multiple times per day. The scream that shreds my already tattered nerves and makes small drips of blood trickle out of my ears.
- At least one really good meal that I don’t cook. Or clean up. Possibly at a restaurant. If at a restaurant, then arrangements (babysitter, reservations) that I did not have to make myself for my own special day.
They are mur. thur. fur. king FREE.
Will I get any of them? Possibly. Maybe one. Why can I predict with total certainty that this year will also be a colossal cluster of not what I want for my special day?
Here’s my schedule:
- 7:00 Wake up totally exhausted and frantically dress self and Thumbelina
- 8:00 Leave house
- 8:15 Thumbelina’s choir practice
- 8:45 Church service that Thumbelina’s choir sings in
- 10:00-11:15 Free time. Awesome. That’s convenient.
- 11:15 I am scheduled to teach Bible stories to 3-5 year olds and no one else on the volunteer schedule will switch with me. Dicks.
- 12:45 I finally leave church (probably will be feeling a little grouchy).
- 1:00 Arrive home to baby awaking from 3 hour nap, big kids screaming for lunch, kitchen trashed and Cap’n at his wit’s end. Open mother’s day gifts.
- 2:30 Lunch made, eaten and kitchen cleaned while Cap’n mows the lawn that is so overgrown as to be embarrassing and also eliciting “Clampett” comments from unkind neighbors.
- 2:45 Call mother, grandmother & mother-in-law to wish them happy Mother’s Day. Pound cold, scalded coffee from coffee pot so as not to pass out.
- 3:15 Kids bouncing off wall. Cap’n suggests taking them for a walk. I glare at him, shake my head and stay home checking email, Facebook in relative peace and quiet.
- 3:45 Where are they? Choir starts at 4…
- 3:50 Frantically drive to choir like bat out of hell. Hang out during practice on picnic table while other, smaller kids play outside while also fielding text messages from the Cap’n about what he is trying to cook for special dinner and where is the malt vinegar. Dread…
- 5:30 Arrive home. Kitchen trashed again. Dinner smells delicious but still 30 minutes away from being done. Have to beat children with reeds and wet blankets to keep them from raiding the fridge as they are starving and yummy smells are making them crazy in the manner of a pack of wild monkeys.
- 7:00 Sit down to delicious dinner.
- 8:45 Children finally asleep. First sip of wine.
- 9:45 Second glass of wine. Happy and relaxed. Talking and laughing with husband.
- 10:15 Baby wakes up.
- 10:35 Baby finally asleep. Look at husband. Asleep in chair with remote in hand and Sports Center theme song blaring. And so I will spend the remainder of my mother's day - sipping wine alone, clicking between E! and old episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, muttering to myself that this was not what I had in mind.
Ok, it hasn’t happened yet. But mark my words, it probably will.
So Happy Freaking Mother’s Day to all of you. Kate and I want to let you know how awesome you are and how happy it makes us that we're all in MommyLand together. We really (sniffle) appreciate you and all that you do for your families. We know it's hard but that we wouldn't change it for anything.
Except for a couple of things on that list...
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