i had a brief list of
demands err requests for Mother’s Day.
1. Go get bagels in the morning. Take the boys, and take the long way home.
2. Watch the boys while I go to ballet class (Imagine a drunken helicopter at low altitudes and that’s pretty much what I look like in ballet class)
3. Buy me some lilacs.
4. A picnic, with so much tzatziki that I don’t panic about having to share it with other people.
That’s it. I’m not much of a demander. In retrospect, I should have thrown some cupcakes in there somewhere. Ah well, there’s always next year.
And that’s all it took to make my Mother’s Day. There were those heart-meltingly awesome moments. And then there were the moments that felt a little more authentic, a little more Fun Apartmenty. Like having my little guy tell me “I kind of like your shirt, Mommy.” Or waking up to find this sweet note about scheduling:I know there’s a big “breakfast in bed” business for mother’s day, but I think I’ll have my coffee and wait for my breakfast alone, thanks. Like Saint Augustine said, “Lord, grant me beautiful happy lads to climb all over me, but not yet.”
So my demands brought me a pretty awesome day full of peace, joy, and leg pain. And sunshine and Greek yogurt. So even if it is kind of a made up holiday, I am taking it. After all, I overheard the man of my dreams admonishing the boys in the hallway: “Remember, there’s no fussing today. None. It’s Mommy’s Day, so no fussing, I mean it.”
A day without fuss: perhaps the best gift of all.