The other day my husband asked me what I wanted to do on Mother’s Day.
That’s actually kind of a big deal because he’s never asked me that before. Not that I can recall.
I was unprepared to answer the question.
I’ve been thinking about it.
I know what I want to do on Mother’s Day.
I also know what I don’t want.
I don’t particularly want breakfast in bed.
Because while it’s fun for the kids, it’s not that fun for me.
And maybe I sound like an ungrateful jerk, but if you’re gonna ask me what I want, I’m going to be honest.
I want to get up at my regular early time.
But I want to be relieved of all my motherly duties upon waking up.
I want my husband to field any and all questions/fights/arguments/messes/meltdowns/issues from sun up to sun down.
I want to come and go as I please like I did before kids.
I want the freedom and option to do whatever I want without running it by anyone first.
If I have to go anywhere in the care, I wanna go alone. And listen to whatever radio station I want.
I might want to work in the garden. I might want to organize the fridge. I might want to take a nap. Or two. I might want to go get a massage. I might want to sit in front of the computer and check out stuff on Pinterest for three hours. I might want to go get a cup of coffee and enjoy it in silence. I might want none of that stuff. And I might want all of it.
I want everyone to get themselves organized for the upcoming week without my reminders or assistance.
I want my family to load and unload the dishwasher and wash not just the plates and the cups, but also the cast iron pans that don’t go in the dishwasher.
I may want to binge watch the rest of Shameless or watch a Fixer Upper marathon or go to the movie theater and watch a movie. Alone.
I want all my stuff to be where I left it. I don’t want to have to search for my charger because one kid took it or my favorite water bottle cause a another kid took that.
For 24 hours I want a bathroom sink that is free of stubble and toilets that are flushed with toilet seats that aren’t covered in pee.
I want all toilet paper rolls to be replaced when necessary, and I want the person who dropped their sandwich under the table to actually pick it up and place it in the garbage.
I want any food that is put in the fridge to have a lid on it, and if there is a millimeter of milk left in the container, I want you to just chug it.
And then put the jug in the recycling bin.
And I want to take an uninterrupted shower.
Yeah. That’s pretty much what I want for Mother’s Day.
And if all that stuff isn’t possible, well, I guess I’ll just settle for a sincere Thank you, Mom.