“What do you want to do for Mother’s Day this year?” diligently asked DW. He knew his time was running out to take the girls shopping.
“I want to drink a bottle of wine, eat chocolate and scrapbook all day,” I said half-joking, “and have someone else clean the bathrooms.”
“What about dinner?” DW asked.
“Take-out,” I replied.
“Done,” he said.
On Saturday morning, I ran in a Color Run with two other moms. Their children are a lot younger than mine, preschool aged. Actually, they themselves are much younger than me and DW. So of course, as we ran the 5k, they were somewhat shocked that I didn’t have “big plans” for Mother’s Day. I also have a couple of cousins and friends with brand new babies that posted all of their sweet Mother’s Day pictures on Facebook.
Waking up Sunday morning, I knew the girls were busy making breakfast for me in the kitchen. I could hear the clinking and clanking of dishes and cabinets. Giggles and footsteps greeted me bedside, holding a tray of gluten-free pancakes, a bowl of fresh fruit and steaming mug of coffee. Both girls were beaming with pride at being able to make breakfast without dad’s help. DW had an early morning racquetball game. I ate breakfast in bed, snuggled my kids for a little while and then opened my presents when DW got home. They picked out a soft summer scarf for me, as well as a beautiful Brighton bracelet that had the words “trust yourself” engraved in silver. In addition, there was also a sweetly wrapped box of Godiva chocolates.
“For your wine and scrapbook day!” said The Hare.
For a minute, I started to miss the days of hand-made art projects and Mother’s Day outings. I suddenly pictured two little girls wearing pretty dresses and smiling at the camera. Perhaps I had been too hasty in wanting to spend this day quietly at home.
“What a perfect day,” I said, “perhaps there is something you would all like to do together? Or a restaurant we might try tonight?”
“Oh no!” both the girls croaked, “we are okay with take-out and staying home.”
The Tortoise had put off all weekend a mound of homework and The Hare had built a village of Littlest Pet Shop toys in her room. After breakfast, everyone went their separate ways and I was alone.
I had wine and ate my chocolates. I listened to my choice of music all day. I started and finished an entire photo album, 150 of my most favorite pictures from my brother’s wedding. All three of my bathrooms were cleaned, by someone else, and I got to eat my favorite Greek salad and loaded baked potato for dinner without any kids arguing about where to go eat or what to order.
And we were all home together.
It was the most perfect day.