Mother’s day is my favorite holiday. No, really- it is. I don’t like my birthday that much anymore. I’ve had 31 of them and it’s just gotten a little stale. Christmas involves so much running around and wrapping and cooking and lying my ass off about all the made up ways that Santa breaks into our house and smuggles in dolls and scooters they will surely break their faces on. And let’s face it, I’m doing about 99% of it while my husband’s all like “Hey… what did we get my mom?” and I grind my teeth and try not to punch him while I tell him all about the lovely gift that I picked out while the kids were pummeling each other into the floor of the mall while the T-mobile guy at the kiosk was like “Mamn! T-mobile! Switch to T-mobile!” until I yelled back that T-mobile obviously doesn’t exist anymore and can’t he see I’m a little occupied right now?
Mother’s Day comes without the dreaded T-mobile guy and the wrapping and the forgetting to hang up Christmas lights until 3 am on Christmas morning. There’s no Easter baskets to fill and no bunny trail to leave. It also comes at the perfect time of year when hopefully the sun isn’t scorching my body hairs off yet and the snow is a distant memory. It usually means that the kids try to be good and we get to eat a big brunch and drink alcohol at 10 in the morning so then at least I’m under the illusion that the kids are trying to be good even if they’re throwing bagels at the waitress and yelling about how they don’t like jelly. I’ll just sit there with my 4th mimosa, in my Mother’s Day stupor, looking adoringly at my children anyway because if you can’t do that on Mother’s Day then when can you?
Aside from the yummy brunch and the stiff drinks, there’s a few other simple things that I love getting when this holiday rolls around. And while I’m fully aware that each and every one of them makes me a total cliche of a mom that doesn’t mean I don’t hope for a couple of them every year.
Here are the things I want for Mother’s Day:
1.Extra sleep– The number one thing on my list is, you guessed it, extra sleep. 15 minutes or an hour, really any amount will do. However long it takes until they’re beating down the door and poking out my eyeballs while my husband looks at his phone on the living room couch and wonders why the room got so quiet. It’s not that long and I usually can’t sleep over the debauchery that’s going on downstairs to begin with. But no matter, even a few extra minutes of shut-eye feels like I’m cheating on my whole family… but in a good way.
2. Bath Bombs– I hate myself just a little for this one. Like, how is it possible that I love something so much that I used to buy for my grandmother and wonder how they brought her so much joy? Has my life really become that mundane? Don’t answer that. It might be true but it doesn’t change the fact that when I slip into a hot bath after a long day, drop one of those purple suckers in and it fizzes all around me, a wave of gratitude comes over me. My whole body says “Thank you. Thank you, bath bombs for smelling so lovely and fizzing with such enthusiasm. Thank you, children, for being asleep. Thank you, Mother’s Day, for making this dream a reality.”
3. All the coffee. All the wine. A cup of hot coffee, ready and waiting? Yes, please. A bottle of my favorite wine later in the evening, after my brunch buzz has worn off? Not gonna fight ya.
4. An afternoon alone. I really love my kids and I know I should want to be with them all day on Mother’s Day. But here’s the thing- I’m with them every day. I do the school pick-up and the dinner making. Sometimes I work at my computer with four tiny hands groping me and it feels like a million. A million tiny hands all over my body, making me want to rip my clothes off and run naked through the neighborhood until someone has me committed. Because then at least the touching will stop. I love them, but there are few things as pleasant as an entire afternoon spent alone without being felt up to do whatever I want. Go see a movie or wander the streets, asking people for hugs because I haven’t gone that long without being touched in years. I really don’t know what I’d do, but I’m definitely willing to find out.
5. A homemade fucking card. This might be the most cliche of all. My kids make so much stuff and usually it resembles something that’s been through a shredder. But a heartfelt card that they spent a few minutes of their day on, just for me, really hits the spot. It makes all the groping and the yelling in my ear and tugging off my limbs worth it. Even if I have no idea what it says. Even if it leaves my hands sticky and wondering what they hell kind of glue they used. I still want the damn card because it’s Mother’s Day and dammit, I deserve it.