This is my mom’s column, which appeared with mine in this week’s edition of the newspaper where I work. She’s so awesome for agreeing to do this, and awesome in general. 🙂 And my dad’s so proud, it’s cute. He’s been showing copies of the paper to everyone. I had to go across the street yesterday to pick it up from their neighbors, who I barely know. True story.
I was asked by my daughter to write a little something this week for Mother’s Day. My daughter is Laura, one of the reporters for this paper. I think she is very good at what she does, of course. That being said, please don’t judge me on what I am about to write.
In trying to decide what to write about I got a lot of input from my children. Along with Laura, who is my oldest, I have two other daughters, Rachel and Samantha. After mentioning several things I thought I might write about there were sneers and “No, don’t write about that, No, that’s depressing,” and so on. What I have decided to do is just tell you about a Mother’s Day or two that stick out in my mind.
Other than all three of the Mother’s Days when each of my girls were new babies and I was reminded of how special it was to be a mother, I would have to go back to the one when they and my husband thought breakfast in bed was a good idea. They were pretty small when this came about. The older two had planned it with their dad – who, I may add, is a stranger in the kitchen. Samantha was still a baby.
On the morning of the “Breakfast in Bed” the girls came Army-crawling across the bedroom floor to wake Dad and get started. Of course, I heard them, as most moms hear all noises after their children are born. I pretended, however, to be asleep as planned. Dad got up and they all went into the kitchen to “cook.” Our house was small and the kitchen was only a little ways down the hall from my bedroom. I heard everything. All the cabinets were opening and closing, the silverware drawer sounded as if it was being tossed around the room. Things were happening.
Then, ever-so-softly, a knock came at my door, “Mommy, Daddy wants to know where the pan is you use for making eggs.” Then, a few minutes later, “Mommy, do you want orange juice or coffee?” and then again, “Mommy, Daddy wants to know where a vase is.”
Needless to say, I wasn’t very relaxed lying there and listening to all that going on and answering questions every few minutes. But, I did the mother thing and pretended to be asleep as they came whispering down the hall carrying the tray and the baby. They came in and woke me up shouting ”Happy Mother’s Day!” I acted very surprised and they were pleased. Then they all left the room so I could eat in peace.
The funny thing is, while I very much appreciated the effort and love put into that breakfast, I really would have loved to just sit down to a nice breakfast with my husband and girls. After all, to me, that’s what Mothers Day is all about.
Through all the Mother’s Days I’ve been through, my most favorite ones have been those when I just have all my girls and husband around. We have spent many of those days at the ballpark at all-day softball games – they don’t stop for Mother’s Day you know, and actually were some of the most fun.
The girls have done many nice things over the years for me, such as wearing an “I love Mom” t-shirt for the day (Laura), maybe for brownie points. One thing they try to do is to get a gift that makes me cry. Whoever does that gets a high five and apparently the opportunity to say ”Yes, I made Mom cry, it was a great gift!”
I love all the things they have done for me over the years. They haven’t figured out though that the best Mother’s Day for me is to just see all my girls, be around them and enjoy the beautiful young women they have become.
Who could ask for a better Mother’s Day gift than that?