My dream Mother’s Day involves sleeping in until early afternoon. When I wake up, the house is tidy; dishes clean, laundry washed. The kids are content and playing happily, bright smiles on their shining faces and songs of joy ringing from the walls. I walk in to hugs and kisses and I love you‘s all around. Then, I eat an entire pan of chocolate fudge brownies without gaining an ounce and a million dollars falls in my lap.
Needless to say, this is not what happened.
Saturday was meant to be a mostly quiet day, relatively speaking, with dinner at my parents’. Except right before we left, Buzz scraped his nose and from that point on it was CRYFEST 2009. Abby cried because Buzz was crying and Jedi was whining at everything because apparently life just sucks when you’re 5. Especially when your younger siblings WON’T STOP CRYING. Food cures all, however, and it’s a good thing.
Sunday wasn’t much either, for that matter. I did dishes. I did laundry. I received flowers. The boys colored Hallmark-envious cards for me in their own special ways. We went out to eat. It wasn’t anything fantastic, but it was nice. I’m grateful to have these 3 unique little souls in my life, smart and healthy and beautiful. I adore being their mother, through all the ups and downs. I really don’t need anything else. I would have loved a few extra hours of sleep, though.