It’s the stuff Mother’s Day dreams are made of!
Except when you’re pretty sure your piercings are closing from lack of wear, believe champagne is best drunk in the comfort of bare feet, and have a 2-year-old massage gift card that’s probably, you think, maybe in the bottom of a purse? Then perhaps you like to do Mother’s Day my way – solo.
I’ve only been married for 5 years, but my husband and I have mastered the art of ASKING each other what we want to do on special days, instead of getting pissed when the other person can’t read our mind. Since he’s been asking, I’ve been answering: I just want to be left alone. I want to have no agenda, no responsibility, and nobody pestering me about squat. If I want to hang out with you, I’ll come say “hi”, or plop down for the 53rd reading of Chicka Chicka ABC. But in the meantime, I’m gonna be outside with my book and my bubbly, so shhhhhhh. . .
Perhaps the tradition lingers from my own mother (a genius), who preferred to garden on that day in May. Booooo! What kid wants to hang out and do that? We didn’t. But did Sherrie care? Goodness no! She went about her merry way in the dirt while we got into trouble elsewhere and were never made to feel guilty about it. My dad, known for his big ideas and bigger treats, made her feel loved without a big to-do. We likely handed over something handmade from school, and before you knew it, it was Monday. Fin. Present day, we live thousands of miles away from each other, so there is always a card, and sometimes flowers, but I prefer to tell her on the regular why she’s the best in the whole wide world.
Needless to say, my husband is a fan of my Mother’s Day request too. He gets off the hook from hearing restaurant employees cackle on the other end of the phone when he tries to make reservations the Friday before (What? Yours thinks of it sooner? Lucky duck.) He doesn’t have to break into a sweat at the Nordstrom counter, wondering if this, THIS will be the year it doesn’t get exchanged. And he doesn’t even have to cook for me, because, well, let’s just say he has numerous incredible skills, but there was a poached egg incident I don’t think either of us will ever come back from. I don’t even ask for the house to be cleaned, or dishes to be done, or children to be taken on some educational excursion while I bask in my freedom. Just keep them alive and don’t break anything. It’s that simple.
I know, I know, I am #blessed to be around my children for so many hours in the day. But on any given Sunday, they have certainly had enough of me too. So often my “free time” is spent on errands, a work project, or physical maintenance. But as can be reinforced by the aforementioned 2-year-old spa gift card, even mani/pedis feel like work to me. When I get TRUE free time, everybody wins. I become a better mother, better wife, and better human when I can have that short escape. Time is the greatest gift of all, so why not be the one I ask for?
So on May 14th, maybe you’ll find me at the Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 matinee. Maybe I’ll be saddled up to the bar at Griffin Claw, watching the French Open. Maybe I’ll be sweating it out at that new Area45 place that sounds like a heart attack waiting to happen, who knows. While these activities may seem highly unlikely, the point is – it doesn’t matter. Because it’s Mother’s Day, and I’ll do as I please.