Greg asked me what I’d like to do for Mother’s Day, and I mumbled something about staying in my pj’s all day and eating fried chicken. I had a passing thought about watching 80’s Movies, chicken leg in hand, sprawled out on the couch like…like Singleton Lori. Stop. No judging. It’s Mother’s Day, which by law, is a no-judging zone. But when the sun rose and Greg and the girls told me sleep in as they left to get donuts as a surprise, the last thing I wanted was to be alone, watching movies that remind me of time when these 3 kook-a-birds weren’t in my life.
Just a quiet day with the 4 of us will do nicely, thank you very much. Spare me the fancy lunches, elaborate cards, and obligatory bottles of perfume. Just us, goofing off on the weekend, a habit we have down to a science. After the ridiculously decadent donuts and coffee, I headed up to the sewing room. It didn’t cross my mind to throw on a Mommy movie, because my Hug-Masters were hot at my heels. Hugging. So much of the delicious hugging today. With one on the Cricut and the other watching Barbie Christmas movies while pinning her piles of bright fabrics into “gowns for Barbie”, I whittled away at this and that. We tend to share that space so easily, so contentedly. It’s my favorite room in the house, old lady wallpaper and all.
Daddy came up with the idea to hike through a park in a neighboring County. 75 and sunny…you couldn’t ask for better Mother’s Day weather. We must have hiked passed 20 different Mother’s Day celebrations. Picnics, barbecues, and decorated shelters covered the park. I loved peeking in on so much goodness.
Daddy offered up any dinner of my dreams, but I had an appetite for only one thing: Mommy’s cooking. Hey! Wait! I’m the Mommy! Good thing I love to cook. 4 helping hands took to their sous-chef’ing with a serious intent I’ve not seen before. No one complained when I set the table in the dining room. In fact, everyone seemed quite pleased to be eating on the good china, no company required.
It was, in every way, a normal day. A Rottweiler from the neighborhood next door escaped, growled at Daddy, but was oddly scared off by the sight of Max. That cat never ceases to amaze me. Later, he and Cyrus plotted an escape by scratching a hole in the screen (lovely, thank you), and proceeded to throw up grass for the remainder of the day. Someone threw quite a fit about correcting her Language Arts homework. Someone else decided piano practice goes best with a side order of moaning and groaning. No one wanted to go to bed after eating warm apple pie on the back porch and taking a long bubble bath. Could I blame them? Who would want to let go of this day?
I didn’t stay in my pj’s for more than an hour. I’m not sure I even glanced in the direction of the TV, let alone found the time to watch a John Hughes marathon. I didn’t make a fuss, participate in a fuss, or put up with any fuss. I enjoyed every second of being a Mother today, and realized, that maybe for the first time since becoming a Mother, I am neither under-rested, overweight, underpaid, nor thoroughly exhausted. I didn’t wish to be at a spa, in my old career, or hell…let’s be honest…just taking a nap. I wanted for nothing and felt as if I had everything I could wish for. But with that being said, you know I have my standards. There are certain things I simply cannot do without. I HAD MY FRIED CHICKEN. Lots and lots of cinnamon fried chicken. I wish for you this kind of happiness my friends. Godspeed, and Happy Mother’s Day.