“What do you want for Mother’s Day?” my husband asks me for the fourteenth time now.
I roll my eyes and think to myself, “What do I want for Mother’s Day? Well, let’s see, where do I start?”
I could cheekily answer him by saying, “Gee, how about world peace? Or, I know, renewable energy that reverses climate change, or affordable locally farmed organic goods for everyone.”
What do I want for Mother’s Day? I really loathe this question. I loathe it because I cannot be completely honest with my answer. I loathe it because some part of me wants him to just KNOW. I loathe it because it’s really not a day. It’s a moment. It’s a complete misnomer – Mother’s Day. There is no DAY in Mother’s Day.
When asked this question, the answers in my head are so different than the ones that come out of my mouth.
When the kids were infants, what did I want for Mother’s Day? I wanted to sleep the entire day – the ENTIRE day and through the next night. I wanted so desperately to sleep.
When the kids were toddlers, what did I want for Mother’s Day? I wanted to walk upright for one entire day without having to lean down to hold someone’s little hand, hunched over taking micro steps to keep him or her from falling.
When the kids were in the incessant questioning period, what did I want for Mother’s Day? I wanted to be mute – completely mute for one entire day.
Now, what do I want for Mother’s Day? I want food to fall from the sky. I want it to appear magically, completely cooked and ready to eat, without my having to have anything to do with it.
What do I want for Mother’s Day? I want my husband to know. I want him to know without asking me what I would like for Mother’s Day.
What do I want for Mother’s Day? I want the day – the whole day, not the 15 minutes or so where the kids are excited to give you their gifts, which are awesomely made by the way, and there is a breakfast of sorts and then, it’s over – completely finished.
“Can we go get the poster board I need for school now?”
“I need a ride to practice.”
“What’s for dinner, Mom?”
“He’s touching me…she’s in my way…he looked at me…MOM!!!”
“What do you want for Mother’s Day?” my husband asks me and I think about it.
You know what, I know exactly what I want for Mother’s Day. I want a whole day – one entire day. I want a day where I can be alone for part of it, just basking in the moment, where I can see a really close friend & we just immerse ourselves in a delicious conversation. I want a day where I can spend some time alone with my husband, where I can get a pedicure, buy some flowers, walk on the beach, laugh with my children. I want a day made up of perfectly luscious moments.
I want a lot apparently and it’s completely unrealistic to imagine a Mother’s Day where all of these things will happen. This is not a movie where your life is flashing by in perfect synchronization to the music. This is real life and in real life what I want for Mother’s Day will come and go in a moment. Flash, blink, gone.
So, I have a plan. I have a plan this Mother’s Day. My plan is take many moments over the next few weeks to bring myself what I want for Mother’s Day. Create the perfect Mother’s Day just for myself. Who says it has to only be a day?
When I am at the market getting the food that will fall from the sky, I will buy myself a bouquet of flowers.
When I am making dinner one night this week, I will call a really close friend and make plans to see each other – soon and for a nice amount of time.
I will mark the calendar to have dinner with my husband.
I will make an appointment for a pedicure.
I will make space one morning next week to walk the beach.
I will spend Mother’s Day basking in each moment, laughing with my children and enjoying my husband. I will do this and not be annoyed when I am asked to help cook dinner or to drive someone somewhere or to stop a fight. I will completely relax and enjoy this Mother’s Day, because I know I will have these totally pleasurable moments coming up in the next few weeks.
“What do you want for Mother’s Day?” my husband asks me.
I smile secretly and answer him honestly, “For Mother’s Day, I just want food to fall from the sky.”
As always wishing you joy,