Friday, May 7, 2010

For the Mamas

I should be writing paychecks.

As I raced home on this beautiful Friday afternoon (with the master plan of printing paychecks, flying off to Trader Joe's, running back to the stand to write paychecks, then sluggishly driving back home in rush hour traffic), I realized for the 32nd time today that Mother's Day is Sunday. All morning long, customers were asking, "What are your Mother's Day plans?", or they were wishing me a Happy Mother's Day. Every time "Mother's Day" was spoken at my window, I was surprised. (Short term memory loss on a Friday morning, I guess.)

A confession: for Many Many Many years, I hated Mother's Day. What a sham of a holiday, I thought! For this to truly be MY day, I should be able to spend it the way I want. And the "way I want" does not translate to "mediating childrens' silly arguments, cleaning up diapers/spilled milk/dinner dishes, shopping for groceries, being woken up early so I can be wished a happy DAY".

Such selfishness.

Even when I hated this holiday, I felt bad. I knew I was probably wrong...but couldn't figure out how to feel better about it. I didn't tell anyone. I would joke, on occasion, with some of my mama friends that we should get pedicures and bloody marys for it to really be OUR day...but it was always said in jest.

But I meant it.

I actually don't have any plans for Mother's Day this year. My mom hasn't mentioned it, so she's probably busy (and she's already given me a beautiful potted hanging fushia, so I'm assuming she's not expected a visit on Sunday). My mother-in-law lives in South Carolina, so the card I'm sending out today will suffice. My sister will be busy with her family of seven, my sister-in-law also lives in Charleston...so, no plans. That I know of. And, I like that.

Apparently, somewhere in the last almost sixteen years of being a mama, I grew up and became a mama. In all honesty, there is now nothing that makes me feel so blessed as being able to spend time with my beautiful children. Oh, they haven't changed...they still fight, eat the last cookie, don't share...but now it's fighting over the computer, not sharing ipods or xboxes.

They haven't changed. I have.

So on this Mother's Day, I may be awakened early, with cards, and hugs, and some flowers. And I won't begrudgingly wake up, cranky that it's supposed to be my day to sleep in; instead I'll hug them extra and tell them how much they mean to me. And twelve minutes later when Joseph is whining and Cami is bitchy, I will smile because I know now they will not be home for many more years, and I will cherish all of the moments of the day called MINE, because my children will be with me. And when Cami asks to go get her hair cut...right NOW...and Joseph asks to play with the neighbors, I will say yes, because I don't want them to feel like they have to be stuck to my side ever in this life, even on Mother's Day. And when Joseph whispers in Stash's ear to go get Blizzards from Dairy Queen as a "surprise" for me after dinner, I will act shocked when they get back, and will not care about what flavor they brought me, and I will tell Joseph how proud I am that he is so thoughtful of his mama.

Pretty sure I really can call this day MINE, this year.

I better go write paychecks.

2 comments:

  1. Well, this sappy father wishes you a fantastic day, Brig! It's a privilege to ready your writing and to call you a friend. Cheers for all that you bring to the world...especially your children.

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