Unlike most moms, Mother’s Day fills me with anxiety.
It’s the card thing, mostly – that profound disappointment over Hallmark leaving me out, yet again.
“You, Mother, always know what to say…You, Mother, make right my disarray,” or whatever the sentiment du annum may be.
My husband usually has enough sense to go straight to the humor aisle. Or, if he can’t find anything funny enough, he’ll default to animals. Last year he got me a card with two rainbow-colored cats on the cover that said, “Meow, you’re an awesome mom!”
It was a cute card, but painfully void of the laundry list of all things “mom” I was supposed to be celebrated for.
But let’s call a spade a spade, shall we?
I’m simply not one of those Hallmark moms who bakes or sews. I have no photo albums of either kid yet and they’re 7 and 9. Heck, I don’t even have video – not one minute – of an Easter, a play, a loose tooth. And it isn’t that I’m unsentimental; I’m simply inept at operating anything with buttons.
But this year I’m done mourning all that I’m not, and instead I’m celebrating all that I am. So I asked my sons to write a their own Mother’s Day card just for me, straight from their hearts.
“Whatever comes to your mind when you think of what makes me special,” I told them. “There is no wrong answer.”
While it’s still few days shy of my BIG day, here is what I found on my computer. The title of their document is, “Boring.”
Wait for it …
Dear Mom,
We don’t really think you are that special when you make us do homework on weekends. We also think you are on the computer too much. We really like that you got us a dog, even though you make us walk her. She is a mom, too. Are we having Mother’s Day for her? We like that you make pancakes with cinnamon in them and when you buy Band-aids that look like pickles. Are we going away to sleep away camp this year? If so, we need new sleeping bags. Red is not my favorite color anymore and Benji wants one with a built-in pillow.
Happy Mother’s Day,
Jackson and Benji
I got chills, too.
For the record, yes – I am sharing Sunday’s spotlight with our dog, probably by walking her at 6 a.m. and scooping her poop as I always do. Regarding the homework on weekends – have you ever tried to fashion a diorama at 10 o’clock on a school night? It’s a C+ waiting to happen.
In regards to summer camp, that’s the least of their concerns. It’s boarding school they’ll need to worry about after reading this.
So to all of you other non-mom’s out there, I salute you. We may not inspire two-stanza poetry inscribed on a four-dollar piece of cardboard, but some of us make a mean pancake.
And, this year, that’s good enough for me.
Happy Mother’s Day, Newport Beach!
As one of your surrogate mothers, I want you to know that you are without doubt a talented, beautiful and super mom.
I am not so sure about the cinnamon pancakes though. xo Mary