I have mixed feelings about this one. Probably that ever present rebellious streak in me – don’t tell me what to do.
Including, don’t tell me I HAVE to honor my Mom today and please DON’T make my husband feel bad that he is not taking me out to brunch this Sunday.
I know, a President made it up, so officially it is not a Hallmark holiday but goodness, I think I am pretty nice to my Momma. I love to give her compliments, admire her domestic goddess skills, notice her haircuts and if we lived closer or gas was not FOUR DOLLARS A GALLON I would make her dinner at least once a week with much pleasure but I sure don’t want the pressure to come up with some witty poem, card or gift simply because it’s Mother’s Day. And thankfully she is not the kind of Mom sitting around waiting for such things. She knows I love her and I will tell her that from the bottom of my heart no matter what day the calendar says it is.
Now as far as ME and Mothers Day goes…A few years ago while driving down to Florida to see the G.P.’s Joel and I heard this hilarious song on a bluegrass station and the lyrics went something like this,
“If you can’t bring me flowers when I am living then please don’t bring them to my grave when I am gone.”
In other words, be nice to your Mom every day.
That has been one of my favorite expressions since then. So, to my (very young) children and husband here is the thing, All you have to do is say “thank you for dinner”, ask, “Is there anything I can do for you?” , turn your clothes right side out, tell me I look nice, suggest that I get out of the house for awhile…(guilt free) and PUT YOUR &&^% away and I will feel like every day is Mother’s Day.
I don’t need a hanging basket or a lame-o card from a rushed trip into Target. I just don’t want to feel taken for granted (though I know it’s bound to happen) but at the same time I don’t ever want you to fret that you did not have something “nice enough” planned or that you have to run out and come up with something because a commercial told you to.
Now, brunch on Lake Geneva or breakfast in bed…I would not complain about, but let’s agree to not get carried away.